THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 


DAWN    THEY    WERE    STILL    RIDING" — Page    230 


THE  LEAGUE 
OF  THE  LEOPARD 


BY 

HAROLD  BINDLOSS 
ff 

AUTHOR  OF  "PRESCOTT  OF  SASKATCHEWAN."  "THE  LONG 
PORTAGE,"  "RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA,"  ETC. 


WITH  A  FRONTISPIECE  IN  COLOR 
BY  CARLTON  GLIDDEN 


NEW  YORK 

FREDERICK  A.  STOKES  COMPANY 
PUBLISHERS 


June,  1914 


CONTENTS 

Chap.  Page 

I.  A  DANGEROUS  BEQUEST i 

II.  AN  UNDERSTANDING 15 

III.  AT  THE  ELBOW  POOL 30 

IV.  THE  POACHER 43 

V.  THE  TRYST  AT  HALLOWS  BRIG 56 

VI.  DANE'S  SILENCE 71 

VII.  A  WARNING 85 

VIII.  TREACHERY 96 

IX.  TEMPTATION no 

X.  RIDEAU'S  BARGAIN 125 

XI.  THE  TRAIL  OF  THE  LEOPARD 137 

XII.  WEALTH  IN  SIGHT 149 

XIII.  PESTILENCE 163 

XIV.  AN  EVENTFUL  DECISION 177 

XV.  THE  BOARDING  OF  THE  KABUNDA 189 

XVI.  ILLUMINATION 202 

XVII.  IN  NEED  OF  HELP 214 

XVIII.  MAXWELL'S  CONFIDENCE 227 

XIX.  THE  DANGEROUS  SENORITA 240 

XX.  MAXWELL'S  LAST  MARCH 251 

XXI.  RELIEF 262 

XXII.  ON  TO  THE  COAST 274 

XXIII.  AN  EYE  FOR  AN  EYE 285 

XXIV.  THE  ESCAPE 297 

XXV.  THE  HEART  OF  BONITA  CASTRO 311 

XXVI.  REWARDED 320 


THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 


THE  LEAGUE 
OF  THE  LEOPARD 

CHAPTER  I 

A  DANGEROUS  BEQUEST 

IT  was  very  hot  in  the  little  West  African  factory 
where  trader  Niven  lay  dying.  The  sea  breeze 
had  died  away,  and  though  sunset  drew  near,  it  was  not 
yet  time  for  the  spicy  airs  from  the  inland  forest  to 
mitigate  the  temperature.  The  dust  lay  still  in  the 
sun-scorched  compound,  about  which  the  palm  fronds 
hung  motionless,  and  only  the  roar  of  breakers  on  the 
beach  broke  through  the  drowsy  silence. 

Two  white  men  lounged  in  cane  chairs  upon  the 
veranda  which  encircled  the  building.  Both  were  limp, 
gaunt  of  frame,  and  pallid  in  face,  because  the  climate 
they  lived  in  is  particularly  unhealthy.  Neither  had 
enjoyed  much  education,  or  felt  the  lack  of  it  in  the  trade 
they  followed,  while  the  cocktail  jug  on  the  little  table 
betokened  their  favorite  relaxation.  Redmond  and 
Gilby  were  West  Coast  traders  who  lived  far  remote 
from  intercourse  with  their  fellows,  except  for  the  two 
French  rivals  with  whom  they  periodically  quarreled. 
They  concerned  themselves  with  little  beyond  the  well- 
being  of  their  factory,  and  indulged  each  appetite  on 
opportunity,  knowing  that  on  the  morrow  they  might 

1 


2   THE  LEAGUE  OP  THE  LEOPARD 

suddenly  die.  Yet  they  had  their  strong  points,  in- 
cluding a  tenacious  regard  for  their  employers'  interests, 
which  led  them  to  toil  twelve  hours  daily  when  sick 
of  fever  if  trade  was  good,  and  sometimes  defy  the 
French  authorities,  and  an  inconsistent  generosity,  as 
the  result  of  which  they  had  camped  in  the  store  shed, 
and  turned  over  their  own  quarters  to  the  man  who 
stood  behind  them,  and  his  stricken  companion.  The 
former  was  of  very  different  type. 

"You  have  done  your  best  for  the  poor  devil,"  said 
Redmond,  glancing  regretfully  from  him  toward  the 
empty  jug.  "But  if  I  know  anything  about  coast  fever 
— and  I  ought  to — Niven  will  get  his  release  to-night. 
Still  rambling  about  that  fortune,  I  suppose?" 

Carsluith  Maxwell  nodded,  and  Gilby  commented 
meditatively:  "It  may  be  all  a  fever  fancy,  and  it  may 
be  true.  Niven  was  well  known  in  this  afflicted  colony 
years  ago,  and  there  is  gold  up  yonder.  In  fact,  right 
away  from  here  to  the  Volta  you  can  find  the  color  in 
the  rivers,  but  there's  very  little  of  it  that  will  pay  for 
the  washing,  and  few  British  mining  companies  that 
distribute  much  in  dividends.  Still,  the  old  Portu- 
guese took  a  good  deal  out,  if  the  tales  are  true,  and  one 
gets  small  lots  now  and  then  put  up  in  quills." 

Redmond  laughed  maliciously. 

"The  last  quills  Gilby  took  in  contained  brass  filings, 
and  the  firm  wrote  off  their  nominal  value  against  our 
commission.  Gilby  had  been  drinking  cocktails  all 
that  day.  He  may  be  right  about  the  gold,  but  it's 
my  firm  opinion  that  unless  the  French  send  up  a 
strong  column  and  root  out  the  Leopards,  no  white 
man  will  ever  find  it.  You  have  heard  about  them. 
Maxwell?" 


A  DANGEROUS  BEQUEST  3 

Maxwell  was  a  man  of  discretion,  and  though  he 
had  ventured  beyond  the  fringe  of  the  Leopards' 
country,  he  only  said: 

"I  don't  know  much  about  them.    Do  you?" 

"He  does  not,"  said  Gilby.  "Neither  does  any 
white  man;  unless  perhaps  it's  Rideau,  or  Niven.  They 
are  supposed  to  be  members  of  one  of  the  secret  leagues 
run  by  the  bush  magicians  in  connection  with  the  cult 
of  the  Ju-ju;  and  if  you  want  to  know  just  what  kind 
of]devil  a  Ju-ju  is,  you  need  not  ask  me.  Anyway,  from 
what  one  hears,  those  fellows  can't  be  all  impostors. 
They  could  apparently  give  our  amateur  necromancers 
points  in  hypnotism,  and  what  they  don't  know  about 
poisons  is  not  worth  learning.  They're  no  fools  at 
bush  politics  either;  and  have  managed  to  run  Shaillu's 
kingdom,  and  keep  white  men  out  of  it  pretty  success- 
fully. It  is  believed  that  Shaillu  would  be  glad  to 
rule  it  without  them,  in  his  own  way." 

Maxwell  knew  all  this,  and  a  little  more  which  his 
informant  apparently  did  not;  but  he  made  no  comment, 
and  asked  only  one  question: 

"Who  is  Rideau?" 

"He  says  he  is  a  Frenchman,"  answered  Gilby. 
"One  would  suppose  that  he  ought  to  know;  but  after 
a  dispute  about  the  count  of  some  monkey  skins, 
Clancy  of  Axim  once  asked  in  public  if  there  was  not 
a  dash  of  the  tar  brush  in  him,  and  was  taken  ill  sud- 
denly that  night — which  may,  of  course,  have  been  a 
coincidence.  In  any  case,  he  goes  trading  inland;  and 
though  he  brings  down  a  little  gum,  nobody  knows 
exactly  what  he  buys  or  sells.  As  you  have  heard,  it's 
a  ghastly  country,  and  there's  a  heavy  penalty  for 
supplying  niggers  with  modern  rifles.  The  little  French 


4    THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

commandant  would  give  a  good  deal  to  fix  a  charge  on 
him/' 

"Thanks.  I  will  remember  if  I  meet  him;  but  it  is 
about  time  I  returned  to  my  patient/'  said  Maxwell, 
and  the  other  two  looked  after  him  until  he  disappeared 
round  a  corner  of  the  dwelling. 

"A  curious  man,"  Gilby  commented.  "He's  prob- 
ably like  the  parrot,  for  he  says  very  little.  Still,  it 
is  not  everybody  who  would  have  turned  back  with  his 
expedition  on  the  very  odd  chance  of  saving  a  crazy 
countryman.  It  is  just  possible,  however,  he  was  glad 
to,  after  the  bushmen  had  scared  him." 

"African  parrots  never  think,  unless  it's  about  the 
pricking  inside  them,"  said  Redmond.  "You  wouldn't 
either,  if  a  nigger  had  fed  you  with  broken  glass,  so 
you'd  die  as  soon  as  he'd  sold  you,  and  keep  the  demand 
up.  You're  wrong,  as  usual,  in  other  ways,  too.  If 
I'm  a  judge  of  character,  there  are  no  niggers  in  Africa 
who  could  scare  that  man." 

Meanwhile  Maxwell  had  seated  himself  on  the  oppo- 
site veranda,  and,  after  a  glance  at  a  trestle  couch 
which  showed  him  that  Niven  was  apparently  asleep, 
was  gazing  out  to  sea.  He  was  close  on  the  age  of  thirty, 
of  average  stature,  but  spare  and  sinewy.  His  sallow 
face  had  been  further  darkened  by  the  African  sun, 
and  though  now  its  expression  and  that  of  the  dark 
eyes  was  thoughtful,  it  was  the  face  of  a  resolute  man. 
Carsluith  Maxwell  was  also,  in  a  somewhat  somber 
fashion,  a  handsome  man;  and  though  some  of  his 
fair  acquaintances  described  him  as  too  silent,  and  others 
as  too  sardonic,  all  agreed  that  he  was  interesting. 
Maxwell  described  himself  as  an  individual  of  unsettled 
habits,  born  with  fastidious  tastes  and  no  means  to 


A  DANGEROUS  BEQUEST  5 

gratify  them — which,  he  said,  explained  his  wanderings 
in  search  of  a  fortune.  He  did  not  add  that  his  chief 
ambition  was  to  restore  to  its  former  prosperity  an  old 
Border  stronghold  which,  with  every  acre  of  its  grass 
parks  and  stony  plow-land  heavily  encumbered,  stood 
behind  the  shores  of  Solway.  Carsluith  Maxwell,  who 
some  day  would  be  master  of  Culmeny,  had  inherited 
more  than  a  trace  of  the  silent  grimness  of  the  old  moss- 
troopers from  whom  he  sprang. 

Turning  presently,  he  saw  that  Niven  was  wide 
awake  and  looking  out  to  sea.  Their  acquaintance  had 
been  brief,  and  dated  from  the  night  when  Niven  reeled 
into  the  camp  of  a  small  French  expedition,  alone, 
fever-stricken,  and  half-crazy.  Seeing  that  he  would 
die  in  the  forest  when  the  expedition  continued  its 
march,  Maxwell  abandoned  his  prospecting  journey 
and  turned  back  to  the  coast  with  him.  The  African 
malaria  often  attacks  a  white  man's  brain  as  well  as 
his  body ;  and  during  most  of  the  time  Niven  had  talked 
erratically.  Now,  however,  Maxwell  noticed  that  he 
appeared  sensible  and  sane. 

"  Good  to  come  back  to,  isn't  it?"  he  said,  glancing 
at  the  sea,  athwart  which  the  track  of  the  sunset  beat 
luridly.  "I  used  to  long  for  it  in  the  forest  when  Lyle 
and  I  first  set  up  the  one  factory  which  ever  stood  more 
than  twelve  months  in  Shaillu's  country.  That  reminds 
me!  I  have  a  good  deal  to  tell  you,  and,  considering 
that  I  may  not  last  out  to-morrow,  it's  high  time  I 
began.  I  have  given  you  a  good  deal  of  trouble,  but 
you  may  not  regret  it  when  I  have  done." 

"I  shall  not  regret  it  in  any  case,"  said  Maxwell 
quietly.  He  was  seldom  emphatic  in  speech. 


6    THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

"You  are  like  Lyle,  and  that's  partly  why  I'm  going 
to  tell  you.  He  and  I  went  up  into  Shaillu's  country 
long  ago,  and  the  Leopards  tried  to  poison  us.  They 
wanted  no  white  men  there,  and  did  not  like  free  trade. 
They  also  tried  other  ways;  but  if  our  lives  were  in  our 
own  hands,  we  held  them  tight — and  any  man  might 
face  the  devil  with  a  partner  like  Lyle.  You  will  under- 
stand presently  why  I'm  commencing  at  the  beginning. 
Well,  we  nursed  each  other  through  fevers,  and  twice 
stood  behind  a  stockade  with  the  rifle  barrels  burning 
our  hands;  but  we  made  money,  and  I  think  the  Leop- 
ards grew  afraid  of  us  because  we  lived  in  spite  of  them. 
Of  course,  we  had  our  friends,  because  the  brown 
traders  from  the  North  had  to  pay  a  heavy  toll  to  the 
Leopards  before  we  came;  and  some  of  them  told  us 
about  gold  having  been  washed  out  of  a  far-off  river 
by  niggers  who  had  a  poor  idea  of  its  value.  We  were 
too  busy  to  trouble  about  ventures  of  that  kind;  and 
as  the  river  flowed  through  No  Man's  Land  there  was 
nobody  to  sell  us  a  marketable  concession."  . 

The  sunset  was  fading  off  the  waters  when  Niven 
paused  to  gather  breath,  while  his  strained  voice  sank 
to  a  deeper  tone  as  he  proceeded: 

"There  was  a  dispute  as  to  who  owned  some  gum  we 
had  paid  for,  and  two  men  were  shot  before  we  con- 
vinced the  niggers  that  nobody  could  lay  violent  hands 
upon  our  property.  Then  one  of  Shaillu's  sub-head- 
men, who  said  there  had  been  a  mistake  somewhere, 
summoned  us  to  a  palaver  to  talk  the  question  over. 
We  went,  with  twenty  armed  Krooboys  scared  almost 
to  death,  who  feared  Lyle  more  than  they  did  the  nig- 
gers, and  were  given  a  fair  hearing.  Several  of  the  big 
Leopard  men  were  there,  but  the  headman  held  us 


A  DANGEROUS  BEQUEST  7 

justified,  and  when  we  had  made  everybody  a  present 
the  palaver  ended  in  revelry.  I  warned  Lyle;  but  to 
fear  nothing,  and  be  equally  ready  with  smile  or  pistol, 
was  always  my  comrade's  way. 

"We  came  back  safely;  but  he  dragged  himself  up 
the  stairway  with  his  face  all  twisted  the  next  night, 
and  I  knew  what  had  happened  before  he  told  me. 
*  Those  devils  have  poisoned  me/  said  he." 

It  was  almost  dark  now,  and  the  white  mist  from  the 
forest  slid  in  ghostly  wreaths  past  the  little  factory. 
Niven  shivered  before  he  proceeded: 

"Have  you  ever  seen  a  comrade  poisoned  by  the 
bushmen — when  they  meant  to  hurt  him  ?  No !  Then 
you  have  someting  to  be  thankful  for.  Lyle,  by  worse 
luck,  was  young  and  strong,  and  took  an  unconscionable 
time  dying;  I  don't  know  that  I  did  well  when  I  took 
the  pistol  from  him.  For  three  mortal  hours  I  suffered 
all  with  him,  and  there  was  no  power  left  in  me  when 
at  last  he  let  his  head  drop  on  the  table.  There  are 
things  it  is  not  fit  to  remember  which  one  can  never 
forget.  Then  I  knew  all  that  the  man  had  been  to  me; 
and  what  I  must  do  was  plain  before  me. 

"I  sent  the  chief  Leopard  man  a  message,  with  a 
token  which,  in  accordance  with  his  own  superstitions, 
made  it  more  impressive,  that  sooner  or  later  I  would 
demand  full  satisfaction,  or,  if  I  died  too  soon,  would 
pass  the  debt  on  in  a  way  he  understood;  and  I  had  not 
forgotten  when  a  new  trading  combination  made  me 
general  manager.  You  see,  I  needed  money,  and  could 
wait  very  patiently.  I  also  made  money,  and,  when 
badly  sick,  let  the  firm  send  me  home,  a  fairly  prosper- 
ous man,  to  recruit  in  England.  It  was  there  I  met  the 
woman  I  married;  and  she  was  worlds  too  good  for  me. 


8   THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

I  even  forgot  Lyle,  and  what  we  had  done  in  Africa; 
and — for  one  looks  at  things  differently  over  there- 
hoped  for  nothing  better  than  to  end  my  days  in  peace 
and  security." 

Niven  so  far  had  spoken  sensibly,  but  he  ceased  when 
the  thick  hot  African  darkness  rolled  down  like  a  cur  tain, 
and  was  silent  a  space.  The  land  breeze  had  delayed 
its  coming,  the  temperature  was  almost  insupportable, 
and  the  roar  of  the  breakers  set  the  whole  factory 
vibrating  in  unison.  It  is  possible  that  the  fever 
gathered  strength,  as  it  often  does,  at  nightfall;  for  the 
sick  man's  speech  was  slow  and  disjointed  when  he 
began  again.  It  was  also  evident  that  he  was  a  little 
hazy  in  his  mind. 

"Poor  Elsie  died,  and  left  me  very  lonely.  Without 
her  the  life  grew  tame,  and  I  would  lie  awake  thinking 
of  Africa  and  Lyle.  He  was  growing  impatient,  and 
tried  to  warn  me  it  was  time  I  went  back  again.  The 
warnings  grew  plainer,  and  at  last  I  went.  I  had,  so 
far  as  it  was  in  me,  trusted  one  man  and  loved  one 
woman,  and  both  of  them  had  gone.  The  trading 
firms  had  forgotten  my  name,  but  I  remembered  the 
gold  in  the  Leopard's  country,  and  determined,  if  I 
could  find  it,  to  hire  my  own  fighting  boys,  and  hunt 
down  the  whole  accursed  league.  There  is  no  law  but 
the  right  of  the  strongest  hand  in  Shaillu's  country. 
I  went  up  with  fifty  Krooboys;  and  perhaps  the  Leop- 
ards remembered  and  were  afraid  of  me,  for  we  had  al- 
most reached  the  place  in  safety,  when  one  of  the  sick- 
nesses common  up  there  seized  us.  I  left  most  of  the 
boys  behind  in  camp  with  my  headman,  and  pushed  on 
for  the  river  where  the  gold  was  said  to  be.  I  found 
it — or  Lyle  found  it  for  me." 


DANGEROUS  BEQUEST  9 

Maxwell  thought  that  no  sane  man  would  have  at- 
tempted single-handed  to  try  conclusions  with  the  al- 
most omnipotent  league,  but  he  sat  still,  with  a  compos- 
ure that  was  characteristic  of  him,  asking  no  questions, 
though  the  simple  statement  had  roused  his  most  eager 
interest.  It  was  some  time  before  Niven  proceeded. 

"I  turned  back  to  camp,  and  found  none  of  all  the 
boys  I  left  there.  Perhaps  the  headman  had  sold  them. 
He  had,  you  must  remember,  a  curious  cross-shaped 
scar  upon  his  forehead.  I  don't  know  where  the  rest 
went,  or  what  I  did,  being  fever-crazy,  and  it  must  have 
been  Lyle  who  brought  me  to  the  Frenchman's  camp. 
Of  course,  Lyle  is  dead — I  buried  him  with  my  own 
hands  under  the  first  big  cotton  wood  behind  the  factory 
long  ago — but  he  has  never  forgotten  me.  There  was 
good  alluvial  gold  in  that  river;  and  when  I  go  you  will 
find  a  record  of  my  journey,  with  sketches  and  compass 
bearings,  under  my  pillow.  I'll  bequeath  it  to  you, 
with  my  curse  upon  the  men  who  killed  poor  Lyle,  on 
this  condition:  If  you  meet  the  Leopards — and  who- 
ever goes  up  there  will — you  will  remember  my  quarrel 
with  them,  and  how  my  partner  died." 

"After  what  I  have  heard  about  their  doings,  I  can 
promise  that,"  said  Maxwell  quietly. 

"I  think  we  both  can  trust  you.  You  look  that 
kind  of  man,"  said  Niven.  "I  should  never  have  told 
you  if  you  hadn't.  The  two  things  go  together,  for 
the  Leopard  headmen  will  know  I  have  passed  the  quar- 
rel on.  You  can't  take  one  without  the  other." 

Niven  sank  into  sleep  or  unconsciousness  presently, 
and  Maxwell  sat  beside  him  considering  what  he  had 
heard.  He  could  see  that  there  was  a  burden  attached 
to  the  legacy;  but  he  had  no  profession,  and  was  not 


10   THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

a  rich  man.  It  was  true  that  he  would  shortly  succeed 
to  Culmeny,  and  had  inherited  the  family  pride  in 
the  ancient  estate;  but,  when  the  interest  had  been  paid, 
the  rental  of  the  poor,  encumbered  lands  would  provide 
the  barest  living.  He  determined  that  if  there  was  gold 
in  the  Leopards'  country  he  would  stake  his  life  on  the 
chance  of  finding  it.  After  coming  to  this  decision  he 
called  a  Krooboy  to  watch  the  sick  man,  and  retired 
to  snatch  a  few  hours'  badly  needed  sleep.  Sleep, 
however,  was  some  time  in  coming.  The  mildewed 
building  was  insufferably  hot,  and  the  thunder  of  the 
surf  sufficient  to  keep  awake  any  man  who  had  lately 
emerged  from  the  hush  of  the  twilight  forest;  but 
at  last  Maxwell  sank  into  fitful  slumber.  It  after- 
ward was  evident  that  the  Krooboy,  too,  had 
slumbered. 

Several  hours  had  passed  when  Maxwell  awakened 
suddenly,  and  sat  up  listening.  Through  the  deep 
monotone  of  the  breakers  he  could  hear  the  land  breeze 
sigh  eerily  about  the  building.  A  snake  rustled  in 
the  thatch,  and  loose  boards  creaked  as  they  soaked 
in  the  damp;  but  although  there  was  nothing  suspicious 
in  all  this,  Maxwell  felt  that  something  unusual  had 
roused  him.  Men  acquire  an  almost  instinctive  pre- 
vision of  danger  in  the  eternal  shadow  of  the  African 
bush. 

Suddenly  a  detonation  shook  the  building.  Maxwell, 
leaping  from  his  couch,  ran  along  the  veranda  and  burst, 
breathless,  into  Niven's  room.  Bright  moonlight 
streamed  in  through  the  window,  and  he  saw  the  sick 
man  lying  propped  up  on  one  elbow,  with  a  pistol 
smoking  in  his  hand.  Niven  appeared  perfectly  sane, 
and  his  voice  was  steady  when  he  spoke. 

"My  fingers  are  shaky,  and  this  is  a  hard  pull-off, 


A  DANGEROUS  BEQUEST  11 

or  I'd  have  shown  you  the  man  who  betrayed  me," 
he  said.  "  It  was  my  book  he  wanted." 

Maxwell,  who  was  quick  in  action,  sprang  out  upon 
the  veranda  and  made  a  circuit  of  the  building.  The 
dusty  compound  beneath  it  was  clear  as  noonday  under 
the  moon,  but,  save  for  two  startled  Krooboys  and 
trader  Redmond  who  crossed  it  at  a  run,  nobody  moved 
therein,  and  Maxwell  hardly  considered  it  possible 
that  any  fugitive  would  have  had  time  to  reach  the 
bush.  He  returned  and  told  Niven  so. 

"You  must  have  been  mistaken,"  he  said. 

The  sick  trader  laughed  harshly. 

"  I  am  not  in  the  least  mistaken.  I  saw  the  man  with 
the  scar  on  his  forehead  as  plainly  as  I  see  you.  He 
must  have  been  one  of  the  Leopards;  and,  whether  it's 
magic  or  trickery,  those  fellows  are  fiendishly  clever. 
You  won't  be  astonished  at  stranger  things  before  they 
have  done  with  you.  Take  the  book  now,  and  keep  it, 
if  you  can.  If  a  man  called  Rideau  ever  hears  you  have 
it  and  wants  to  trade  with  you,  distrust  him  as  you 
would  the  devil.  If  he  says  I  ever  made  any  bargain 
with  him,  it  will  be  a  lie!" 

Maxwell  went  out  and  allayed  Redmond's  curiosity 
by  a  promise  to  confer  with  him  in  the  morning;  then 
he  returned  to  watch  beside  Niven,  who  slept  tranquilly 
during  the  remainder  of  the  night.  After  breakfast 
Maxwell  told  Redmond  as  much  of  the  story  as  appeared 
judicious;  but  the  trader  did  not,  as  he  partly  expected, 
laugh  at  it. 

"Of  course,  it  may  have  been  all  a  delusion,  and  it 
may  not,"  he  said.  "If  so,  it's  a  coincidence  that  I 
heard  Rideau  has  just  arrived  at  the  next  beach;  and 
one  of  my  boys,  who  seemed  afraid  of  it,  picked  this 


12   THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

up  in  the  bijsh.  It's  a  trifle  that  has  a  significance  in 
the  country  your  sick  friend  rambled  through." 

The  trader  handed  Maxwell  a  little  tuft  of  leopard's 
fur  braided  with  fiber. 

"If  Niven  has  told  you  any  of  his  secrets  it  might  be 
good  policy  not  to  mention  it,"  he  cautioned;  "and 
Gilby  and  I  are  not  curious.  This  factory  is  sufficiently 
remunerative  and  deadly  for  us." 

Niven  grew  rapidly  weaker  all  day,  and  when  Max- 
well asked  him  at  sunset  whether  he  had  any  messages 
to  send  to  friends  in  the  old  country,  he  did  not  appear 
to  recognize  him. 

"They're  all  dead  a  long  time  ago,"  he  said  ram- 
blingly.  "Poor  Elsie,  who  was  worlds  too  good  for  me, 
lies  in  clean  English  earth  a  long  way  across  the  sea; 
but  Lyle,  who  understands  everything  and  why  I  for- 
got him,  is  waiting  for  me.  I  could  not  have  a  better 
comrade  wherever  he  is." 

These  were  his  last  comprehensible  words,  for  he 
passed  out  of  existence,  sleeping,  with  the  chill  of  early 
morning,  and  was,  as  usual,  laid  to  rest  that  day. 
Maxwell  returned  thoughtfully  from  the  simple  funeral, 
feeling  that  the  legacy  might  well  prove  an  unmixed 
blessing. 

On  reaching  the  veranda  stairway,  he  heard  some- 
body moving  softly  about  what  had  been  the  sick  man's 
room.  He  had  good  ears,  and  felt  tolerably  certain 
that  the  next  sound  he  caught  was  that  made  by  cotton 
garments  being  quickly  unfolded  or  wrapped  together. 
Somebody,  it  appeared,  was  searching  Niven's  apparel. 
In  spite  of  Maxwell's  quickness,  he  had  not  reached  the 
doorway  when  a  man  came  out  of  it  and  advanced, 
smiling  toward  him.  He  was  rather  dark  in  face  and 


A  DANGEROUS  BEQUEST  13 

full  in  flesh  for  an  European  who  had  dwelt  any  time  in 
Western  Africa.  He  also  was  more  elaborately  dressed, 
in  spotless  white  duck,  fine  linen,  and  silk  sash,  than  the 
average  trader;  but  if  his  lips  were  a  trifle  thick,  and 
his  eyes  cunning,  he  had  an  easy,  good-humored  air, 
and  saluted  Maxwell  gracefully. 

"Monsieur  Maxwell,  is  it  not?  I  have  the  honor  to 
present  myself — Victor  Rideau,"  he  said.  "By  grand 
misfortune,  I  arrive  too  late  to  change  the  adieux  with 
my  friend  of  long  time,  the  estimable  Niven,  and  so 
wait  to  ask  if  he  left  any  paper  for  me.  We  have  affair 
together,  and  there  is  small  debt  he  owe  me,  voyez  vous?" 

Maxwell  was  a  man  of  keen  perceptions,  and  he 
would  have  distrusted  the  speaker  even  if  he  had  not 
been  warned  against  him. 

"He  left  you  no  papers.  Neither,  so  far  as  I  can  dis- 
cover, did  he  leave  a  single  franc  piece  in  money." 

"Grand  misfortune!"  exclaimed  Rideau.  "Possible 
it  is  he  tell  you  of  his  affair.  The  estimable  Niven,  you 
understand,  was  old  friend  of  me.  That  is  why  I  have 
the  pleasure  of  wait  your  company." 

"He  told  me  very  little  about  his  business  affairs, 
and  the  rest  was  spoken  in  strict  confidence,"  said 
Maxwell;  and  for  a  few  seconds  the  two  men  eyed  each 
other — Maxwell  curious  but  expressionless  in  face; 
Rideau  somewhat  uneasy.  The  advantage  was  with 
the  Briton,  for  he  was  seldom  loquacious,  while  the 
man  of  Latin  extraction  seemed  to  find  the  silence 
irksome. 

"You  are  perhaps  busy,"  he  said  at  length.  "You 
grieve  for  the  estimable  Niven.  Me,  I  grieve  for  him 
also.  So,  if  it  is  not  intrusion,  to-morrow,  by  the  morn- 
ing, I  come  for  condole  with  you." 

Rideau  withdrew,  and  Maxwell  first  packed  his  few 


14      THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

belongings — a  homeward  bound  steamer  was  due  to 
call  on  the  morrow — and  then  sat  down  to  make  a  copy 
of  the  dead  man's  itinerary,  with  the  sketches  attached 
to  it.  He  was  surprised  to  find  that,  mad  or  sane, 
Niven  had  noted  the  magnetic  direction  of  each  day's 
march,  as  well  as  taken  cross  bearings  of  prominent 
objects  wherever  there  was  open  country.  These 
details  increased  his  hopefulness;  and  when  he  had  en- 
closed the  copy  in  a  sealed  envelope  and  handed  it  to 
the  French  postmaster,  he  buttoned  the  original  in  an 
inside  pocket  and  sat  down  on  the  veranda,  smoking 
thoughtfully. 

"It  appears  that  other  men  beside  myself  believe 
Niven  actually  did  find  gold  up  there,  as  two  attempts 
to  steal  his  diary  seem  to  prove,"  he  reflected.  "Who- 
ever goes  up  to  look  for  it  will  probably  have  to  deal 
with  Monsieur  Victor  Rideau  as  well  as  the  Leopards; 
and  a  little  delay  in  setting  about  the  search  may  throw 
him  off  the  scent.  The  first  necessity  is  a  reliable 
partner,  and  I  can  think  of  nobody  better  than  Hyslop." 
The  homeward  bound  mailboat  arrived  before  Rideau 
the  next  day,  and  when  she  stopped  at  the  first  port 
connected  by  cable,  Maxwell  despatched  a  message  to 
London: 

"Wire  Hyslop  to  meet  me  by  Malemba." 
Before  the  steamer  proceeded  he  received  the  answer: 
"Hyslop  dead  South  America,  according  to  Dane." 
"Poor  Andrew!"  thought  Maxwell.     "That  is  check 
number  one.     Still,  there  must  be  many  suitable  men 
at  home,  and  I  dare  say  I  shall  find  one.     Who  Dane 
is,  Carslake,  parsimonious  as  usual,  does  not  explain." 


CHAPTER  II 

AN   UNDERSTANDING 

IT  was  a  pleasant  summer  evening  when  Hilton  Dane 
leaned  against  a  beech  trunk  outside  Thomas 
Chatterton's  villa  which  stands  upon  a  hillside  above 
the  Solway  shore.  He  was  a  tall,  fair-haired  man  who 
looked  older  than  his  age,  twenty-five,  with  steady 
blue  eyes,  and  usually  a  somewhat  masterful  air;  but 
just  then  his  eyes  were  wistful,  and  his  face,  which 
betokened  an  acquaintance  with  the  tropical  sun, 
expressed  somewhat  tempered  satisfaction.  He  had 
certainly  cause  for  the  latter  feeling,  because,  after 
toiling  hard  at  railroad  building  in  a  foreign  land,  it  was 
comforting  to  know  that  he  had  earned  the  right  to 
rest  a  while  in  that  peaceful  retreat. 

The  sun  still  touched  the  velvet  lawn,  though  the 
shadows  lengthened  across  it,  and  the  larch  wood  behind 
the  red-tiled  building  diffused  resinous  odors.  The 
grass  sloped  to  a  river  which  came  down  amber-tinted 
from  the  stretch,  of  heather  growing  black  against  the 
east,  and,  curving  round  two  meadows,  flashed  through 
the  gloom  of  fir  branches  into  a  deep  pool.  All  this 
was  pleasant  to  the  wanderer  newly  returned  from  the 
glare  of  the  desolate  pampa  and  the  turmoil  of  dusty 
construction  camps;  but  Dane  found  the  keenest 
pleasure  in  watching  his  companion. 

Lilian  Chatterton,  niece  of  the  childless  owner  of 


16   THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

The  Larches,  was  worth  inspection.  She  was  a  year 
or  two  younger  than  the  man,  and  lay  in  a  low  chair 
opposite  him,  her  fingers  busy  with  a  ball  of  colored 
thread,  while  the  last  of  the  sunlight  sparkled  in  her 
hair.  Dane  noticed  how  its  bronze  color 'flashed  into 
lustrous  gold,  and  decided  that  the  changing  lights 
in  the  hazel  eyes  matched  it  wonderfully  well.  Never- 
theless, he  had  seen  them  burn  with  quick  indigna- 
tion, for  the  girl  possessed  a  spice  of  the  Chatterton 
temper,  which  was  never  remarkably  equable.  Pres- 
ently he  allowed  several  loops  of  thread  to  slip  from 
the  skein  he  held,  and  she  looked  up  with  a  trace  of 
indignation. 

"That  is  the  second  time!  You  cannot  be  tired 
already,"  she  said. 

Dane  smiled  a  trifle  grimly.  He  had  toiled  for 
twelve  hours  daily  under  burning  heat  and  then  spent 
half  the  night  poring  over  plans,  not  long  ago. 

"I  am  not  quite  worn  out;  but  is  it  not  an  unfair 
question,  considering  my  present  employment?  This 
skein  is  getting  mixed,  and  I  was  wondering  if  you  would 
allow  me  to  help  you  in  straightening  it." 

Miss  Chatterton  glanced  at  him  keenly  before  she 
shook  her  head.  It  was  not  surprising  that  she  had 
grown  used  to  masculine  homage,  but  none  of  her  other 
cavaliers  had  quite  resembled  this  one.  He  was  slower 
and  more  solid,  and,  while  he  had  a  way  of  anticipating 
her  wishes,  he  lacked  their  versatility.  Sometimes  she 
wished,  with  a  sense  of  irritation,  that  she  could  dismiss 
him  as  summarily  as  she  had  done  the  rest,  but  that 
could  not  be  done  without  incurring  Thomas  Chatter- 
ton's  displeasure,  which  was  no  small  thing  to  risk. 

"No,"  she  said  decisively.  "I  believe  you  tangled 
it  yourself.  Don't  you  think  it  would  run  more 


AN  UNDERSTANDING  17 

smoothly  if  you  gave  the  thread  more  length?  Well, 
why  don't  you  act  upon  the  suggestion?" 

"I  was  thinking,"  the  man  answered  with  a  medi- 
tative air;  and  Miss  Chatter  ton  laughed. 

"It  is  a  bad  habit  of  yours.  Of  the  famous  mining 
pump,  or  the  lawsuit,  presumably?" 

There  was  something  in  the  speaker's  manner  which 
qualified  the  smile  in  her  hazel  eyes,  and  warned  the 
man  that  his  companion  was  merely  bent  on  discovering 
how  far  he  was  disposed  to  respect  the  wishes  she  had 
not  directly  expressed.  He,  on  his  part,  was  wondering 
how  he  could  best  intimate  that  certain  fears  she  enter- 
tained were  groundless.  He  laughed  softly,  though  a 
tinge  of  darker  color  crept  into  his  tanned  face  as  he 
remembered  the  uncompromising  frigidity  with  which 
she  had  at  first  received  him. 

"I  feel  that  I  ought  to  say  something  civil,"  he  said. 
"How  could  one  think  of  the  things  you  mention  in 
such  surroundings?" 

The  girl  was  in  a  variable  mood,  and  she  smiled 
mischievously. 

"That  is  not  civil.  It  implies  that  I  expected  you  to. 
Tell  me  instead  how  the  pump  is  progressing." 

"The  pump  is  not  progressing,"  said  the  man.  "In 
fact,  it  is  standing  still;  and,  though  the  court  upheld 
my  patent,  it  will  probably  continue  to  stand  still 
for  lack  of  capital.  Capital  is  hard  to  acquire,  you 
know." 

"But  you  were  well  paid,  and  promoted  several 
times  on  your  merits  in  South  America,  were  you  not?" 
asked  Miss  Chatterton. 

"I  was  lucky,"  Dane  said  quietly.  "It  was  due  to 
no  merit  of  mine  that  my  superiors  died  off  with  yellow 


18   THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

fever;  but  when  the  inventor  desires  a  fair  share  of  the 
profit  himself,  it  requires  a  good  deal  of  money  to  start 
off  pumps  and  similar  inventions  successfully." 

"You  are  growing  avaricious,"  declared  Miss  Chat- 
terton,  and  let  her  eyes  fall  a  little  under  the  man's 
gaze. 

"You  are  right,"  he  said.  "I  would  sell  half  my 
life  to  any  one  for  the  few  thousand  pounds  the  inven- 
tion would  repay  twenty- fold;  and  somehow  I  shall 
get  them." 

The  listener  fancied  that  this  was  possible,  for  there 
was  a  stamp  of  force  and  endurance  upon  the  man; 
but  she  did  not  inquire  why  he  was  so  anxious  for  wealth. 
While  she  considered  her  answer,  and  he  wondered 
how  he  could  best  express  what  must  be  said,  there  was 
an  interruption;  for  it  happened  a  few  moments  earlier 
that  the  owner  of  The  Larches  flung  down  the  balance- 
sheet  he  was  perusing  in  a  room  which  did  not  look  out 
upon  the  lawn. 

"Those  new  directors  are  a  pack  of  fools,"  he  observed. 
"They  are  throwing  away  all  I  so  painfully  built  up. 
I'm  going  to  catch  a  trout  in  the  moss  pool;  and,  as  I 
saw  Maxwell's  rascals  putting  up  the  fence  again,  I'll 
demolish  his  iniquitous  obstruction  on  my  way.  Helen, 
where  have  these  stupid  people  hidden  my  fly  book 
again?" 

Mrs.  Chatterton  smiled  a  little,  and,  reminding  her 
husband  that  the  book  was  in  his  pocket,  followed  him 
to  the  door. 

Thomas  Chatterton  and  the  father  of  Hilton  Dane 
had  set  up  a  little  wire  mill  when  both  were  struggling 
men,  and,  though  Dane's  rolling  machinery  had  started 
them  on  the  way  to  prosperity,  its  inventor  died  too 


AN  UNDERSTANDING  19 

soon.  Chatterton  was  always  considered  an  upright 
man;  but,  because  Dane's  widow  did  not  long  survive 
her  husband,  nobody  knew  exactly  whether  his  success 
was  due  to  his  own  energy  or  the  dead  man's  invention. 
Chatterton,  however,  recognized  a  moral  debt,  and 
would  have  discharged  it,  but  that  Hilton  Dane  had 
inherited  his  mother's  pride  as  well  as  his  father's  skill. 
When  the  famous  business  was  sold  to  a  company,  the 
iron-master,  purchasing  a  small  estate  in  Scotland, 
aspired  to  play  the  part  of  a  country  gentleman,  in 
which  he  was  not  wholly  successful.  He  was  at  once 
too  autocratic  and  too  democratic;  and  the  local  mag- 
nates of  ancient  descent  resented  his  habit  of  doing 
exactly  what  pleased  himself  in  defiance  of  their  most 
cherished  traditions.  He  had  accordingly  embroiled 
himself  with  Maxwell  of  Culmeny  over  what  he  con- 
tended was  an  ancient  right  of  way. 

When  he  reached  the  door  he  turned  and  smiled 
significantly  at  his  wife. 

"They  seem  well  contented,  do  they  not?"  he  said. 

Mrs.  Chatterton  understood  him,  though  she  did 
not  smile  as  she  glanced  at  the  two  on  the  lawn.  Lilian's 
white-robed  figure  was  forced  up  sharply  in  a  manner 
that  emphasized  its  comeliness  by  the  somber  back- 
ground of  larches;  and  the  last  of  the  ruddy  light  deep- 
ened the  faint,  warm  tinge  in  her  cheeks.  Dane's  face 
was  in  the  shadow,  as  he  looked  down  upon  the  girl, 
but  his  form  showing  darkly  against  the  light  was  that 
of  a  vigorous,  well-made  man;  and  Mrs.  Chatterton, 
knowing  his  disposition,  reflected  that  her  niece  might 
make  a  less  desirable  choice.  It  was,  however,  she 
thought,  unfortunate  that  her  husband  was  seldom 
addicted  to  leaving  those  he  desired  to  benefit  any 


20   THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

choice  at  all;  and  she  considered  that  he  had  made  his 
intentions  respecting  Dane  and  his  niece  too  plain,  for 
Lilian  had  a  tolerably  strong  will  of  her  own. 

Chatter  ton  moved  forward,  and  the  two  turned 
sharply  at  the  sight  of  the  stout,  thick-necked,  elderly 
gentleman,  in  vivid  red  leggings  and  slouch  hat  adorned 
with  gaudy  flies. 

"We  had  neither  time  nor  taste  for  needle- work 
when  I  was  young,  Hilton,  but  these  are  degenerate 
days,"  he  said,  with  a  twinkle  in  his  eyes.  "Do  you 
feel  inclined  to  help  me  to  catch  a  trout  during  the 
evening  rise?" 

Dane  glanced  appealingly  toward  his  companion. 
He  would  have  felt  no  great  inclination  for  being  sent 
into  the  river  to  free  the  iron-master's  line,  which  usu- 
ally formed  part  of  the  program  on  such  excursions, 
even  if  he  had  not  a  better  reason  for  refusing. 

"I  am  afraid  the  water  is  too  clear,  sir,  for  an  in- 
different angler;  and  it  might  spoil  this  skein  if  I  left 
it  partly  wound,"  he  answered  lamely. 

Lilian,  however,  possibly  for  Chatterton's  benefit, 
ignored  the  appeal. 

"So  far  you  have  only  succeeded  in  entangling  it," 
she  said. 

Dane  had  no  choice  left  but  to  express  the  pleasure 
it  would  afford  him  at  least  to  carry  his  host's  landing 
net;  and  he  did  it  as  well  as  possible,  though  uneasily 
conscious  that  Chatterton  was  amused  at  him.  Then 
they  waded  together  through  long  damp  grass  which 
soaked  Dane's  thin  shoes  through,  while  Chatterton 
discoursed  learnedly  upon  lines  and  flies.  He  was  as 
choleric  and  obstinate  as  he  could  be  generous  when  the 
impulse  seized  him,  and  he  had  ruled  stubborn  opera- 


AN  UNDERSTANDING  21 

tives  so  long  that  the  use  of  the  strong  hand  had 
become  habitual  to  him.  Presently  he  halted,  fuming 
with  indignation,  before  a  hedge. 

"That  confounded  Maxwell  has  built  it  up  stronger 
than  ever!"  he  exploded.  "Look  at  that,  and  see  how 
he  respects  a  public  right  of  way !  Don't  you  consider 
it  perfectly  scandalous,  Hilton?" 

Dane  saw  an  irate  elderly  gentleman,  and  a  neatly 
mended  gap  in  the  hedge;  but  being  uncertain  as  to 
what  answer  would  best  soothe  the  former,  he  wisely 
held  his  peace  until  he  should  furnish  further  particu- 
lars. Chatter  ton,  however,  espying  a  stout  stake  in 
the  grass,  commenced  a  spirited  attack  upon  the  hedge. 
So  vigorous  was  it  that  his  face  grew  flushed  and  his 
hat  fell  off,  while  Dane  looked  on  with  suspicious 
gravity,  smothering  a  desire  to  laugh. 

"If  you  really  want  that  gap  opened,  I  dare  say  I 
could  assist  you,  sir,"  he  said. 

Chatterton  panted  wrathfully. 

"Do  you  suppose  I  am  doing  this  for  exercise?  It's 
a  public  duty!  I  have  battered  it  down  twice  already, 
and  defied  Culmeny  to  sue  me." 

He  plied  the  stake  again  until,  glancing  from  a  root, 
it  smote  him  on  the  ankle.  Desisting  then,  he  com- 
mented upon  his  neighbor's  conduct  viciously  while 
Dane  proceeded  to  attack  the  obstruction  with  marked 
success.  Chatterton,  when  he  noticed  this,  watched 
him  admiringly;  and  when  Dane  tore  his  hand  on  a 
strand  of  barbed  wire,  he  positively  beamed  on  him. 

"I'm  sorry,  Hilton;  but,  in  one  way,  it's  almost  a 
pity  you  did  not  tear  it  worse,"  he  said.  "Still,  I  dare 
say  it  will  rankle  sufficiently  to  give  us  something  to 
claim  damages  from  Culmeny  upon.  Meantime,  go 


22   THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

home  and  ask  Lily  to  tie  it  up.  Nobody  could  do  it 
more  neatly." 

"I  certainly  hope  it  will  not,  sir,"  said  Dane,  with  a 
trace  of  irritation;  though,  being  thankful  for  the  excuse, 
he  lost  no  time  in  returning. 

Meanwhile,  Lilian  Chatterton  sat  where  he  had  left 
her,  in  a  contemplative  frame  of  mind.  She  and  Dane 
had  been  playmates  in  their  younger  days,  and  the  lat- 
ter had  afterward  shown  his  admiration  for  her  in  youth- 
ful fashion.  That  was  before  he  went  abroad;  but  her 
cheeks  tingled  as  she  remembered  how  she  had  been 
made  to  feel,  a  few  weeks  earlier,  that  it  was  Chatter- 
ton's  desire  that  their  youthful  friendship  should  speed- 
ily ripen  into  something  further.  Lilian  was  grateful 
to  the  iron-master,  who  had  denied  her  nothing,  and 
brought  her  up  as  his  daughter;  but  she  was  also  sensi- 
tive, and  accordingly  shrank  from  Dane,  wondering, 
with  a  sense  of  shame,  what  had  been  said  to  him,  and 
whether  he,  too,  considered  her  own  opinion  as  of  no 
importance.  The  man's  conduct  had,  however,  partly 
reassured  her,  for  he  made  no  advances;  she  did  not 
know  that  he  had,  during  several  years  spent  in  strenu- 
ous effort,  carried  her  memory  and  a  stolen  photo- 
graph about  with  him. 

Had  she  been  a  free  agent  she  might  have  been 
inclined  to  approve  of  Hilton  Dane.  She  knew  he  was 
honest,  resolute,  and  capable,  while  as  regards  physique, 
nature  had  treated  him  well;  but  as  it  was,  and  because 
there  were  no  friends  she  could  find  an  excuse  for  visiting, 
it  appeared  essential  that  he  should  be  made  to  recog- 
nize that  there  could  be  no  more  than  a  mutual  tolera- 
tion between  them.  Miss  Chatterton  had  just  arrived 
at  this  conclusion  when  the  man  came  toward  her  across 


AN  UNDERSTANDING  23 

the  lawn.     Again  it  struck  her  that  the  bronzed  face 
beneath  the  straw  hat  was  that  of  an  honest  man,  and  \ 
that  the  blue  eyes  had  a  kindly  gleam  in  them;  but 
she  brushed  such  thoughts  aside  impatiently. 

"What  has  brought  you  back  so  soon?"  she  asked. 

"The  need  of  assistance,"  Dane  answered  with  a 
laugh,  and  the  girl's  mood  changed  swiftly  as  she 
glanced  at  his  injured  hand.  Her  eyes  grew  sympa- 
thetic. 

"Will  you  wait  a  few  moments  until  I  find  some 
arnica?"  she  said. 

Dane  would  have  waited  a  long  time  in  return  for 
such  a  glance,  and,  when  the  girl  rejoined  him,  he  felt 
that  the  pain  was  a  very  small  price  to  pay  for  the  pleas- 
ure of  letting  his  torn  hand  rest  in  her  little  cool  palm. 
When  it  had  been  bound  up  with  a  dainty  handkerchief, 
Lilian  smiled  prettily. 

"I  think,"  she  said  playfully,  "with  due  care  you 
should  now  recover." 

"Do  you  know  that  I  feel  tempted  to  go  back  and 
tear  the  other?"  returned  the  man. 

Lilian  regarded  him  with  some  uneasiness. 

"Such  speeches  do  not  become  you,"  she  said.  "No 
doubt  there  are  idle  men  who  consider  that  they  prove 
irresistible  to  most  of  us;  but  you — you  are  different." 

"Yes,"  Dane  assented  somewhat  grimly.  "I  sup- 
pose my  lot  is  to  drag  the  measuring  chain  and  do  the 
hard  work  more  famous  men  get  paid  for;  but  a  little 
variety  is  refreshing — and  there  were  times  when  you 
did  not  seem  to  find  any  levity  on  my  part  wholly  irk- 
some." 

The  girl's  color  rose  a  little,  and  there  was  a  sparkle 
in  her  eyes.  She  understood  that  this  was  a  challenge, 


24   THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

but  she  did  not  guess  that  it  had  been  thrown  down  for 
her  sake  out  of  kindliness.  Unfortunately,  she  recalled 
several  incidents  connected  with  the  days  to  which 
her  companion  referred,  and  she  recollected  that  he  had 
an  unpleasantly  good  memory. 

"We  were  only  boy  and  girl  then,"  she  said.  "One 
forgets  such  nonsense  as  one  grows  older.  Still,  I  am 
almost  glad  you  mentioned  it,  because — can't  you  see 
the  uselessness  of  remembering?" 

Dane,  though  he  did  not  say  so,  saw  most  clearly  the 
impossibility  of  ever  being  able  to  forget;  but  he  was 
considerate,  and  had  sense  enough  to  see  what  he  would 
lose  by  taking  advantage  of  the  position.  He  had 
noticed  how,  until  his  conduct  reassured  her,  she  held 
aloof  from  him. 

"What  could  an  unfortunate  man  answer?"  he  asked 
with  a  mirthless  smile.  "Do  you  expect  me  to  admit 
that  I  am  pleased  to  consider  it  is  so?" 

Lilian  looked  down  at  the  grass  to  hide  the  anger 
in  her  face. 

"Please  don't — I  am  not  wholly  foolish,"  she  said; 
and  added  abruptly,  "I  have  almost  decided  on  going 
to  London  for  a  course  of  art  study  shortly." 

Dane  leaned  forward  a  little,  and  forced  her  to  look 
up  at  him. 

"  That  is,  you  are  going  away  to  avoid  me,"  he  said. 
"Have  you  considered  that  this  might  not  only  ren- 
der circumstances  unpleasant  for  you,  but  be  unnec- 
essary?" 

Lilian  looked  at  him  steadily,  for  she  was  not  lacking 
in  courage. 

"I  am  my  own  mistress;  and  they  are  distinctly 
unpleasant  already." 


AN  UNDERSTANDING  25 

Every  word  of  the  answer  cost  Dane  an  effort,  but  he 
determined  to  finish  his  task. 

"  I  can  realize  that  they  must  be  so,"  he  said.  "  I  am 
not  clever  at  expressing  myself,  and  what  I  have  to 
say  is  difficult  to  me,  but  I  cannot  allow  you  to  be 
driven  away.  We  are  both  master  of  our  own  inclina- 
tions, are  we  not? — and  you  have  my  word  that,  if  you 
can  trust  me,  it  really  isn't  necessary." 

There  was  no  doubt  about  the  relief  in  Lilian's  face; 
and  though  it  hurt  the  man  to  see  it,  he  held  out  his 
hand. 

"We  shall  be  good  friends  once  more;  and  that  im- 
plies a  good  deal,  does  it  not?"  he  said.  "Promise  so 
much,  and  I  will  engage  that  you  have  no  further 
perplexity." 

Lilian  felt  very  grateful. 

"I  think  I  can  promise  that,  now  that  we  understand," 
she  replied. 

"Then  it  is  a  compact,"  said  Dane,  hiding  his  own 
regret  manfully.  "As  a  change,  you  might  tell  me 
why  your  uncle  finds  such  satisfaction  in  destroying 
his  neighbor's  fences.  He  even  said  it  was  a  pity  I  did 
not  tear  my  hand  more  seriously." 

Lilian  was  glad  to  change  the  subject. 

"He  fancied  that  Maxwell  of  Culmeny  closed  the 
gap  to  annoy  him,"  she  explained.  "Unfortunately, 
when  tearing  down  the  first  barrier,  he  hurt  his  foot, 
which  -naturally  made  him  more  determined  to  main- 
tain ancient  privileges.  In  one  way,  the  feud  is  amusing; 
in  another,  vexatious;  because  we  are  lonely  here,  and 
the  Misses  Maxwell  cannot  well  call  upon  us.  Their 
brother  Carsluith  has  lately  returned  from  Africa,  and 
would  have  made  you  a  pleasant  companion." 


26   THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

"Carsluith  Maxwell?"  said  Dane.  "It  is  curious 
that  I  was  of  some  service  to  a  friend  of  his,  named 
Hyslop,  in  South  America.  The  poor  fellow  struck 
our  camp  pulled  down  by  sickness  and  apparently 
in  want  of  money,  and  we  were  able  to  find  him 
employment." 

"Did  you  not  mention  that  the  contractors  would 
not  replace  the  assistants  who  died  of  fever?"  asked 
Lilian.  "Did  they  endorse  your  action?" 

"I  can't  say  they  did,"  was  the  answer.  "They 
were  not  required  to." 

"Oh!    Then  who  paid  Hyslop's  salary?" 

"It  was  arranged,"  Dane  answered  ambiguously. 
"You  see,  he  was  a  countryman;  and  the  poor  fellow 
died  soon  afterward,  anyway.  I  think  I  shall  walk 
over  to  Culmeny." 

Lilian  asked  no  further  questions.  She  felt  that  any 
one  in  trouble  could  trust  the  man  beside  her.  She 
smiled  as  she  said: 

"I  am  afraid  that  would  not  be  judicious.  Your 
host  would  consider  it  an  act  of  treachery." 

They  went  back  to  the  house  together;  and  in  the 
meantime,  Thomas  Chatterton,  who  was  not  a  skilful 
angler,  whipped  several  pools  unsuccessfully,  hooking 
nothing  but  weeds,  and  once,  by  accident,  a  water  hen. 
Thus  it  happened  that  he  had  not  returned  when  dark- 
ness fell,  and  Mrs.  Chatterton  despatched  Dane  in 
search  of  him.  The  moon  was  rising  when  the  latter 
came  down  a  path  through  the  fir  wood  and  stopped 
beside  a  deep,  black  pool.  A  streak  of  silver  light  crept 
up  to  the  roots  of  an  alder  beside  a  ruined  wall,  and  he 
paused  to  watch  the  wrinkled  current  flash  athwart  it. 
The  odors  of  the  firs  and  the  stillness  of  the  night  were 


AN  UNDERSTANDING  27 

soothing:  the  sacrifice  he  had  lately  made  had  been  a 
heavy  one.  Dane  had  not  abandoned  his  hopes,  but 
knew  that  he  might  have  to  wait  long  for  their  consum- 
mation, if  they  were  ever  realized. 

Presently  there  was  a  sound  of  footsteps,  and  Dane 
guessed  that  the  approaching  shape  was  Chatterton 
by  the  red  glow  of  his  cigar.  The  iron-master  stopped 
beside  the  alder,  and  it  seemed  that  something  which 
caused  a  ripple  near  its  roots  caught  his  eyes.  Dane 
suspected  that  some  poacher  had  set  a  night  line. 

Now,  the  wall  marked  the  boundary  between  Chat- 
terton's  riparian  rights  and  those  of  Culmeny;  and  it 
was  out  of  idle  curiosity  that  Dane  watched  his  host 
instead  of  hailing  him  as,  first  looking  about  him,  he 
descended  the  bank  and  hauled  in  the  line.  An  ex- 
clamation of  disgust  followed  as  a  writhing  eel  was  flung 
out  upon  the  grass ;  but  there  were  nobler  fish  attached, 
and  presently  Chatterton  stood  up  holding  a  splendid 
trout.  Dane  remembered  that  his  father  had  sworn 
by  Chatterton's  commercial  integrity,  but  he  was  not 
wholly  astonished  when  the  man  slipped  the  fish,  and  a 
second  one  which  followed  it,  into  his  creel.  Then, 
surmising  that  the  angler  would  not  have  desired  a 
witness,  he  turned  back  softly  and  met  him  in  the  wood, 
flattering  himself  that  he  had  arranged  the  meeting 
neatly. 

"Had  you  any  luck,  sir?"  he  asked. 

"The  water  was  low,  but  here  is  something  to  con- 
vince the  mockers,"  Chatterton  answered,  holding  up  a 
handsome  trout;  and  Dane  expressed  admiration  but 
no  astonishment,  which  might  not  have  been  compli- 
mentary. 

They  walked  home  together,  and  Lilian  met  them  in 


28   THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

the  hall.  She  surveyed  the  trout  suspiciously,  then 
laughed  as  she  said: 

"You  look  hot  and  muddy,  and' almost  guilty.  Are 
you  quite  sure  you  have  not  been  poaching?" 

Miss  Chatterton  was  a  shrewd  young  lady,  and  for  a 
moment  the  iron-master,  who  had  quelled  several 
strikes  unaided,  looked  positively  uneasy. 

"Young  women  were  taught  that  flippancy  did  not 
become  them  when  I  was  young,"  he  rebuked. 

Late  that  night  the  two  men  sat  talking  together. 

"You  have  told  me  little  about  your  affairs,  Hilton," 
Chatterton  said;  "but  I  presume  you  will  stay  at  home 
and  put  your  pump  on  the  market  instead  of  accepting 
the  foreign  commission.  There  should  be  a  good  de- 
mand for  it  among  the  deep  mine  owners." 

"I'm  afraid  not,  sir,"  was  the  answer.  "The  patent 
lawsuit  proved  expensive,  and  to  start  an  article  of  that 
kind  successfully  requires  a  good  deal  of  money.  I  shall 
therefore  go  abroad  to  earn  a  little  more  as  soon  as  the 
firm  sends  me." 

"And  risk  your  life  for  a  thousand  pounds,"  said 
Chatterton  severely.  "Don't  you  know  that  there  are 
men  with  money  who  would  be  willing  to  finance  you?" 

"All  I  have  met  demanded  three-fourths  of  the  possi- 
ble profits  in  return;  and  this  is  my  invention." 

"It  is  a  valuable  one,"  declared  Chatterton  with 
unusual  diffidence.  "But  can't  you  think  of  anybody 
who  would  lend  you  the  money  out  of  good-will  at  a 
very  moderate  interest?" 

Dane  looked  at  the  speaker  steadily  before  he 
answered. 

"I  think  I  could;  and  I'm  grateful;  but  unfortunately 
I  can't  bring  myself  to  borrow  money  from  such  people. 


AN  UNDERSTANDING  29 

It  would  be  abusing  their  kindness;  and  I  might  lose  it 
for  them." 

Chatter  ton  frowned. 

"You  are  like  your  father — and  as  confoundedly 
hard  to  do  a  favor  to,"  he  said. 

He  retired  shortly  after  this;  and  Dane  went  out 
into  the  moonlight,  and  leaned  over  the  rails  of  a  foot- 
bridge, watching  the  river  slide  past.  He  found  a  faint 
solace  in  the  sounds  and  scents  which  filled  the  shadows, 
and  knew  that  though  he  had  taken  the  one  course 
possible,  if  he  was  to  retain  his  own  self-respect  and 
Lilian's  esteem,  there  would  be  no  sleep  for  him  that 
night. 


CHAPTER  III 

AT  THE  ELBOW  POOL 

WHILE  waiting  for  his  foreign  commission,  Dane 
found  the  summer  days  slip  by  almost  too 
rapidly,  though  there  were  occasions  when,  after  a  long 
afternoon  spent  in  Lilian's  company,  he  fancied  he 
could  understand  the  feelings  of  Tantallus.  The 
girl  appeared  completely  reassured,  and  treated  him 
with  sisterly  cordiality,  while  Chatterton,  v/ho  knew 
nothing  of  their  compact,  nodded  sapiently  as  he  ob- 
served their  growing  friendship.  Dane  sometimes 
wondered  if  he  were  not  heaping  up  future  sorrow  for 
himself;  but,  with  infrequent  exceptions,  he  found  the 
present  very  good,  and,  being  a  sanguine  man  who  could 
wait,  he  made  the  most  of  it. 

Lilian  was  troubled  by  no  misgivings.  Once,  when 
her  aunt  asked  a  diplomatic  question,  she  smiled 
frankly  as  she  said:  "  Yes.  I  am  in  one  way  very  fond 
of  Hilton;  you  will  remember  that  I  always  was.  We 
understand  each  other  thoroughly;  and  he  is  so  assured 
and  solid  that  one  feels  a  restful  sense  of  security  in  his 
company.  You  will  remember  the  Highland  chieftain's 
candlesticks — the  men  with  the  claymores  and  torches, 
Aunty.  Well,  I  fancy  that  worthy  gentleman  must 
have  felt  the  same  thing  when  he  dined  in  state  with 
them  about  him.  He  had  but  to  lift  his  finger  and  they 
would  disappear,  you  know." 

Mrs.    Chatterton  looked  slightly  grave  as  she  an- 

30 


AT  THE  ELBOW  POOL  31 

swered:  "Don't  forget  that  they  were  also  men  with 
passions,  and  very  terrible  men,  sometimes — for  in- 
stance, at  Killiecrankie.  It  wo  aid  not  surprise  me 
if  you  discovered  that  there  is  a  good  deal  of  very 
vigorous  human  nature  in  Hilton  Dane." 

Thomas  Chatterton  still  went  fishing,  generally 
with  indifferent  success,  but  once  Lilian  caught 
Dane  examining  his  creel,  which  was  surprisingly  well 
filled. 

"I  am  puzzled,  Hilton/'  she  said.  "I  made  a  wager 
with  Uncle  that  he  would  not  catch  a  dozen  good  trout 
in  a  month,  and  now  I  fancy  that  he  will  win  it." 

"Well?" 

"Men  are  deceivers  ever — especially  when  it  is  a 
question  of  catching  fish.  I  have  noticed  that  when 
your  host  goes  fishing  by  daylight  he  rarely  catches 
anything  but  eels,  which,  as  everybody  knows,  do  not 
rise  to  a  fly,  while  when  he  rises  early  or  returns  in  the 
dusk  he  brings  a  really  fine  trout  or  two.  I  cannot, 
however,  believe  that  this  one  died  only  two  hours  ago. 
Can  you  suggest  an  explanation?" 

"Charity,"  said  Dane  gravely,  "suspecteth  nothing. 
Don't  you  know  that  trout  rise  most  freely  just  before 
the  dusk?" 

Lilian  shook  her  head. 

"You  are  not  sufficiently  clever  to  set  your  wits 
against  a  woman's,"  she  declared. 

Dane  laughed,  a  trifle  grimly;  and  the  girl,  momen- 
tarily startled  by  something  in  his  merriment,  decided 
that  she  must  have  been  mistaken;  but  she  abandoned 
the  subject  with  some  abruptness. 

That  very  evening,  perhaps  sent  forth  by  fate, 
because  much  depended  upon  his  fishing,  Thomas 


32   THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

Chatterton  took  up  his  rod  and  landing  net,  and,  as 
he  did  not  return  by  nightfall,  his  wife  once  more 
despatched  Dane  in  search  of  him. 

"I  think  you  know  where  to  find  him;  and  I  wish  I 
did,  for  he  has  only  to  take  two  more  trout  to  win/' 
Lilian  added  significantly. 

Dane  proceeded  by  the  shortest  way  to  the  big 
elbow  pool,  but  it  was  almost  dark  when  he  reached  it. 
There  had  been  heavy  rain,  and  all  the  firs  which  loomed 
through  thin  white  mist  were  dripping.  The  water 
came  down  beneath  them  thick  with  the  peat  of  the 
moorlands  in  incipient  flood.  Dane  could  hear  its 
hoarse  growl  about  the  boulders  studding  the  tail  rapid, 
and  surmised  that  there  ought  to  be  several  trout  on  the 
poacher's  line.  Having,  nevertheless,  no  desire  to 
surprise  his  host  red-handed,  he  did  not  immediately 
proceed  toward  it,  but  sat  upon  the  driest  stone  he 
could  find,  listening  for  his  coming.  There  was  no 
sound  but  the  clamor  of  the  river  and  the  heavy  splash- 
ing of  moisture  from  the  boughs  above,  some  of  which 
trickled  down  his  neck,  until  he  heard  a  rattle  of  fall- 
ing stones,  and  a  shadowy  figure,  which  he  guessed 
was  Chatterton's,  crawled  down  toward  the  alder 
roots. 

A  splash  was  followed  by  a  hoarse  exclamation  as  the 
man  slipped  into  the  water  up  to  the  knee;  then  Dane 
heard  the  thud  of  a  flung  out  fish,  and  sat  very  still, 
for  it  would  clearly  be  injudicious  to  present  himself 
just  then.  He  noticed  a  minute  twinkle  of  brightness 
among  the  boulders  across  the  pool  which  puzzled  him. 
It  was  too  small  for  the  light  of  a  lantern,  and  he  remem- 
bered nothing  that  shone  in  just  the  same  fashion. 
While  he  wondered  what  it  could  be,  another  dark  ob- 


AT  THE  ELBOW  POOL  33 

ject  rose  beside  the  alder,  gripping  what  looked  like 
a  heavy  stick. 

"I'm  thinking  I  have  ye  noo!"  a  gruff  voice  ex- 
claimed. "Ye  sorrowful  wastrel,  stealing  a  puir 
man's  fish!" 

Thomas  Chatterton  stood  upright,  knee-deep  in  the 
river,  with  an  exclamation;  and  Dane,  knowing  there 
was  much  deeper  water  close  behind  him,  sprang  to  his 
feet.  That  the  irascible  iron-master  would  show  fight 
if  necessary,  he  felt  certain,  and  equally  so  that  a  portly 
elderly  gentleman  would  make  a  poor  match  for  a 
brawny  laborer.  Hardly  had  he  got  to  his  feet,  how- 
ever, than  the  keeper,  sliding  down  the  bank,  dropped 
silently  into  the  river,  and  disappeared  as  if  by  magic, 
while,  as  Dane  wondered  what  had  startled  him, 
another  voice  rang  out. 

"Run  straight  in  on  the  alder  while  I  head  him  off 
from  the  firs!"  it  directed;  and  a  whistle  was  followed 
by  the  sound  of  trampling  feet. 

Somebody  came  smashing  through  the  undergrowth, 
and  Dane  was  never  quite  certain  as  to  the  cause  for 
what  happened  next,  though  he  surmised  that  Chatter- 
ton's  dread  of  becoming  a  laughing-stock  to  his  enemy 
proved  momentarily  stronger  than  his  reason.  In 
any  case,  he  must  have  endeavored  to  follow  the  keeper's 
lead,  and  lost  his  footing,  for  a  side  swing  of  the  stream 
swept  him  out  from  shore,  while  Dane,  realizing  that 
an  elderly  gentleman  in  heavy  boots  and  leggings  was 
hardly  likely  to  make  much  head  against  a  flooded 
river,  plunged  from  the  bank  in  the  flattest  dive  he  could 
compass,  though  horribly  afraid  that  he  might  strike 
his  head  against  a  submerged  stone.  It  was  a  good 
plunge,  for  he  rose  almost  in  mid-stream,  and  heard  a 


34   THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

great  splashing  and  panting  close  before  him.  A  few 
moments  later,  he  had  Chatterton  by  the  shoulder,  and 
braced  himself  for  a  struggle. 

Chatterton,  though  driving  sideways  down  the 
stream,  could  apparently  swim  a  little,  and  did  not 
appear  unduly  alarmed.  Indeed,  Dane  had  cause  for 
believing  he  feared  nothing  except  ridicule;  but  he  was 
very  heavy,  and  panted  stentoriously,  while  muddy 
froth  beat  into  the  younger  man's  eyes  and  nostrils, 
and  the  rebound,  which  surged  in  a  whirling  eddy  from 
a  central  rock,  swept  them  down  together  toward  the 
white  race  between  the  boulders  at  the  tail  of  the  pool. 
Dane  had  no  intention  of  being  hammered  against 
them  if  it  could  be  avoided,  and  did  his  utmost,  thrust- 
ing with  one  hand  on  Chatter  ton's  shoulder  and  swim- 
ming on  his  side.  Still,  the  boulders  swept  up-stream 
past  them,  the  larches  flitted  by,  and  though  they  drew 
clear  of  the  fastest  rush,  it  seemed  impossible  that  they 
could  make  a  landing  in  time  to  escape  the  rapid. 
Chatterton  was  apparently  swallowing  water,  and 
choking  badly  now. 

"  For  heaven's  sake,  make  a  last  effort,  sir!"  spluttered 
Dane;  and  the  iron-master  splashed  furiously. 

A  strip  of  shingle  grew  nearer,  but  they  would  hardly 
have  reached  it  had  not  a  man  floundered  in  almost 
shoulder-deep  and  clutched  them  as  they  passed.  All 
three  went  down  together,  Chatterton  undermost;  but 
when  Dane's  head  broke  the  surface,  a  hand  was  twined 
in  his  hair,  and  a  half-choked  voice  said: 

"You  are  in  wading  distance,  man.  Get  up  and 
walk!" 

Dane  felt  sliding  shingle  beneath  him,  and  tightening 
his  grip  on  Chatterton  he  struggled  for  a  foothold;  and 


AT  THE  ELBOW  POOL  35 

finally  they  reeled,  breathless,  dazed,  and  dripping,  out 
among  the  boulders.  Then  somebody  turned  back  the 
slide  of  a  darkened  lantern,  and  the  half-drowned 
Chatterton  gasped,  for  it  was  evident  that  his  rescuer 
was  Carsluith  Maxwell,  the  son  of  his  enemy.  Maxwell 
stared  at  Chatterton,  and  the  iron-master  gaped  at 
him;  but  while  blank  astonishment  was  stamped  on 
both  their  faces,  it  was  Maxwell  who  recovered  his 
senses  first. 

"Robertson,  hail  Jim  to  run  over  to  The  Larches, 
and  say  that  Mr.  Chatterton,  who  fell  into  the  river 
trying  to  capture  a  poacher,  is  coming  home  with  me  to 
change  his  clothes,"  he  ordered,  and  then  turned  toward 
the  dripping  pair.  "It  was  very  plucky  of  you,  sir, 
and  you  were  only  a  few  seconds  too  late.  I  thought 
you  would  secure  the  depredator.  It  is  two  miles 
round  by  the  footbridge,  and  you  hardly  look  fit  for 
the  walk,  so  you  are  coming  to  Culmeny  with  me. 
There  is  really  no  use  protesting." 

Thomas  Chatterton  did  not  look  capable  of  much 
exertion,  but  he  hesitated. 

"It  is  very  kind  of  you,  but  your  father  and  I,  unfor- 
tunately—" 

Maxwell  laughed. 

"I  believe  you  had  some  trifling  difference;  but  this 
is  a  Christian  country,  and  the  reason  given  quite 
insufficient  for  letting  you  freeze  to  death.  Mr.  Dane, 
I  presume?  You  will  help  me  to  persuade  your 
host." 

Chatterton,  although  exhausted,  yielded  dubiously, 
and  it  was  not  long  before  the  pair  shed  their  dripping 
garments  beside  a  blazing  fire  in  Culmeny,  and  struggled 
into  the  dry  ones  provided,  both  sets  being  of  average 


36   THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

size.  Dane,  however,  was  tall  and  long  of  limb; 
Chatterton  was  short  and  broad,  and  when  his  toilet 
was  finished,  he  stood  up  half-choked,  with  every  button 
straining  about  him. 

"This  is  worse  than  a  strait  waistcoat,  Hilton,"  he 
fumed;  "and  I'd  rather  forfeit  five  pounds  than  go 
down  and  meet  them  as  I  am.  By  the  way, 
I  believe  I  never  thanked  you;  but  I  will  not  forget 
our  swim.  But  tell  me  how  you  came  to  turn  up  so 
opportunely." 

Chatterton  betrayed  some  anxiety  in  the  last 
words,  but  Dane  managed  to  frame  an  answer  which 
reassured  him  as  he  surveyed  himself  in  a  glass  and 
hoped  the  Misses  Maxwell  would  not  put  in  an  appear- 
ance. The  wet  hair  plastered  down  his  forehead  showed 
a  washed-out  straw  color  against  the  darkened  skin. 
His  brown  wrists  and  ankles  projected  ridiculously  from 
the  borrowed  garments,  and  somebody's  slippers  would 
not  cover  more  than  a  portion  of  his  feet. 

"We  are  neither  of  us  particularly  prepossessing  at 
first  sight,  but  I  suppose  we  must  make  the  best  of  it; 
Maxwell  asked  us  to  come  down  when  we  were  ready," 
he  said. 

They  went  down,  Chatterton  fuming,  Dane  strug- 
gling with  a  desire  to  laugh;  and  two  men  rose  to  meet 
them  when  they  entered  a  long,  low-ceilinged  room. 
That  meeting  was  fraught  with  far-reaching  conse- 
quences, and  Dane  could  afterward  recall  it  vividly. 
The  old  place  of  Culmeny  was  an  ancient  and  somewhat 
decrepit  edifice,  owned  for  many  generations  by  the 
Maxwells,  and  the  wainscot  of  the  room  was  dark  with 
age.  Quaintly  embroidered  curtains  were  drawn  across 
one  end  of  it;  there  were  few  pictures,  and  these  old; 


AT  THE  ELBOW  POOL  37 

while  the  whole  place  wore  a  somber  air,  almost  inten- 
sified by  the  light  of  the  wax  candles  on  the  great 
uncovered  table,  which  supported  a  steaming  bowl. 
This,  Dane  noticed,  was  of  oak  hooped  with  tarnished 
silver.  It  was,  however,  the  two  men  who  fixed  his 
attention.  The  elder,  a  spare  gray-haired  man  with  a 
white  moustache,  came  forward  holding  out  his  hand. 

"I  must  congratulate  you  upon  your  escape,  Mr. 
Chatterton,"  he  said.  "I  am  glad  that  Carsluith  had 
sense  enough  to  bring  you  home  with  him;  and  I  can 
recommend  a  ladleful  of  this  mixture  as  a  preventative 
against  a  chill,  while  regretting  that,  because  the  fires 
were  low,  we  could  not  send  you  a  dose  earlier.  The 
customs  of  Culmeny  are  not  altogether  what  they  used 
to  be." 

The  pair  formed  a  striking  contrast  when  Chatterton 
turned  toward  his  host,  glass  in  hand.  The  one  was 
softly  spoken,  spare  to  gauntness,  and  characterized 
by  a  subtle  air  of  distinction;  the  other,  short,  florid, 
abrupt  in  speech,  and  more  often  aggressive  than 
dignified  in  manner.  Then,  because  Chatterton  was 
also  a  man  of  impulse,  who  cared  for  neither  place  nor 
tradition  when  anything  stirred  him,  as  his  host's 
welcome  evidently  did,  he  bowed  to  Brandram  Maxwell 
with  more  grace  than  Dane  deemed  him  capable  of. 

"Here's  to  our  better  acquaintance,  sir;  and  my  best 
thanks,"  he  said.  "I'm  a  plain,  self-taught  man,  and 
may  have  blundered  in  enforcing  what  I  thought  my 
rights.  If  so,  I  regret  it." 

What  Brandram  Maxwell  answered  Dane  did  not 
remember,  but  he  expressed  it  very  neatly;  and  while 
the  feud  was  patched  up,  his  son  smiled  curiously  at 
the  younger  man.  He  was  like  his  father,  but  taller 


38   THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

in  stature,  dark  in  color  of  eyes  and  hair,  and  slightly 
olive- tin  ted  in  complexion,  while  his  movements  sug- 
gested a  wiry  suppleness.  Dane  surmised  that  he  was 
of  reserved,  if  not  slightly  sardonic,  disposition. 

The  bowl  of  punch  was  emptied  with  every  sign  of 
amity;  and  when  it  was  finished  Thomas  Chatterton, 
who  had  absorbed  the  major  portion  and  declared  that 
he  had  never  tasted  anything  better,  said:  "I  hope  we 
shall  see  much  more  of  each  other  in  future,  and,  as  an 
earnest  of  the  wish,  I  will  expect  you  shortly  at  The 
Larches,  where  Mrs.  Chatterton  will  thank  you  for  your 
kindness  better  than  I  can." 

While  Brandram  Maxwell  started  some  topic  of 
conversation  with  his  elder  guest,  his  son,  to  whom 
Dane  had  mentioned  the  affair  of  the  Englishman  in 
South  America,  drew  him  aside. 

"Hyslop  and  I  were  once  good  friends,  and  I  con- 
sider myself  your  debtor  for  what  you  did  for  him,"  he 
said.  "Did  he  tell  you  much  about  his  wanderings, 
or  that  he  and  I  came  near  successfully  exploiting  a 
Mexican  mine?" 

"No,"  said  Dane.  "He  told  me  very  little.  What 
went  wrong  with  the  mine?" 

Maxwell  laughed. 

"The  unexpected  happened.  It  generally  does  when 
one  awaits  the  consummation  of  an  ingenious  scheme. 
I  am  especially  sorry  Hyslop  has  gone." 

Dane  longed  to  ascertain  whether  his  new  friend 
suspected  any  other  explanation  than  the  one  he  had 
seized  upon  for  Chatterton' s  plunge  into  the  river,  and 
endeavored  to  do  so,  without  success;  for  even  when  he 
afterward  learned  to  know  and  trust  him  well,  he  never 
found  it  easy  to  glean  more  from  Carsluith  Maxwell 


AT  THE  ELBOW  POOL  39 

than  he  wished  to  tell.  An  accident,  however,  favored 
him,  and  he  thought  more  of  the  man  for  his  reticence 
when,  as  the  master  of  Culmeny  was  exhibiting  some 
new  artificial  minnows  in  his  gun-room,  he  heard  his 
son,  who  had  slipped  away,  say  to  somebody  in  the 
darkness  beneath  the  open  window: 

"You  remember  the  pheasants'  eggs  incident,  Kevan? 
You  need  not  repeat  your  explanations,  because  I 
have  no  intention  of  raking  it  up,  and  merely  wish  to 
suggest  that  you  find  means  of  preventing  your  com- 
rades from  talking  too  much  about  what  happened 
to-night.  When  a  gentleman  of  Mr.  Chatterton's 
years  allows  his  excitement  to  overcome  him  to  such  an 
extent  that  he  follows  a  poacher  into  a  flooded  river, 
.he  naturally  would  not  like  his  adventures  made 
public  property." 

"I'm  a  wee  bit  puzzled,  sir,"  answered  an  invisible 
person;  and  Maxwell's  voice  rose  faintly  through  the 
sound  of  retreating  footsteps: 

"I  am  not  puzzled  in  the  least;  and  that  ought  to 
be  sufficient.  You  are  sure  you  understand  my 
wishes?" 

He  came  in  a  few  moments  later  to  inform  his  guests 
that  the  dog-cart  was  waiting. 

As  they  drove  home,  Chatterton  said  senten- 
tiously: 

"We  all  make  mistakes  at  times,  Hilton;  and  that  was 
most  excellent  punch.  For  instance,  when  one  comes 
to  know  him,  Maxwell  is  what  might  be  termed  a  very 
good  fellow.  Hard  up  like  the  rest  of  them,  of  course; 
land  and  buildings,  as  everybody  knows,  burdened  to 
the  hilt,  but — I  suppose  it  was  born  in  him — he  bears 
the  stamp,  and  his  son  wears  it  too.  You  and  I  are 


40   THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

different,  you  know,  though  travel  has  done  a  good  deal 
for  you.  I  have  handled  a  good  many  men  in  my  time, 
and  I  like  that  fellow's  looks.  He  would  be  a  very  bad 
kind  to  tackle  when  the  devil  that  smiles  through  his 
black  eyes  wakes  up;  and  I  think  he'd  stand  by  the  man 
who  played  him  fair  through  the  damnedest  kind  of 
luck." 

Dane,  who  fully  endorsed  this  opinion,  was  afterward 
to  discover  that  Thomas  Chatterton  was  no  bad  judge 
of  his  fellow-men. 

''They  are  neither  of  the  type  one  associates  with 
this  part  of  the  country,"  he  commented. 

"No,"  said  Chatterton.  ''They  were,  I  understand, 
always  an  adventurous  family,  and  some  of  them  who 
took  part  in  the  wars  there  in  the  old  days  intermar- 
ried with  the  Spaniards  then  holding  the  Low  Coun- 
tries. A  strain  of  that  kind  takes  a  long  time  to  work 
out,  you  know." 

Chatterton's  fishing  was  not  without  results,  for  in 
spite  of,  or  perhaps  because  of,  their  different  character 
and  experience,  it  was  the  commencement  of  a  friend- 
ship between  himself  and  Maxwell  of  Culmeny.  The 
iron-master  had  hewn  his  own  way  to  fortune,  and,  being 
troubled  by  no  petty  diffidence,  was,  if  anything,  over- 
fond  of  recounting  has  earlier  struggles.  The  wild 
blood  of  the  old  moss-troopers  still  pulsed  in  the  veins 
of  the  Maxwells,  and  the  impoverished  gentleman,  who 
listened  with  interest,  sighed  as  he  remembered  the  sordid 
monotony  of  his  own  career,  during  which  he  had,  by 
dint  of  painful  economy,  somewhat  lightened  the  bur- 
den with  which  his  inheritance  had  been  saddled  by  the 
recklessness  of  his  forbears. 

Carsluith  Maxwell  took  even  more  kindly  to  his  new 


AT  THE  ELBOW  POOL  41 

acquaintances;  and  there  sprang  up  between  himself  and 
Dane  a  comradeship  which  was  to  stand  a  bitter  test, 
while,  as  summer  merged  into  autumn,  he  would  some- 
times wonder  at  himself.  He  said  nothing  about  his 
African  venture,  and  spent  much  time  considering  old 
rent  books  and  the  cost  of  moss-land  reclamation 
schemes.  The  rest  he  spent  shooting  with  Dane,  or 
lounging  at  The  Larches,  if  possible  in  Lilian  Chatter- 
ton's  vicinity;  but,  although  he  could  rouse  himself  to 
temporary  brilliancy,  Maxwell  was  usually  oversilent 
in  feminine  society,  and  Dane  felt  no  jealousy.  The 
latter  rested  content  in  the  meantime  with  the  knowl- 
edge that  Lilian  found  a  mild  pleasure  in  his  company; 
and  only  Mrs.  Chatter  ton  felt  any  misgivings  respecting 
future  possibilities.  Being  a  wise  woman,  she  kept  her 
suspicions  to  herself  until  they  became  certainties, 
when  one  day  Miss  Margaret  Maxwell,  perhaps  not 
wholly  by  accident,  gave  her  a  significant  hint. 

"I  hear  that  your  brother  has  undertaken  an  exten- 
sive drainage  scheme,"  said  the  elder  lady. 

"We  are  hopeful  that  he  will  settle  down  at  last," 
responded  Margaret  Maxwell.  "My  father's  health  is 
failing,  and  he  has  long  desired  his  son's  company;  but 
Carsluith  was  always  ambitious,  and  used  to  say  he 
would  never  vegetate  in  poverty  at  Culmeny.  Of  late, 
however,  we  have  been  pleased  to  see  that  he  is  taking 
an  almost  suspicious  interest  in  the  improvement  of 
the  estate,  and  is  now  investing  the  money  he  made  in 
Mexico  in  the  reclamation  of  Langside  Moss.  As 
Carsluith  seldom  does  anything  without  a  reason,  his 
sudden  change  of  program  puzzles  us." 

Mrs.  Chatterton  fancied  she  could  supply  the  reason, 
but  she  made  no  comment.  Lilian,  she  decided,  had  a 


42   THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

right  to  choose  for  herself,  and  might  make  a  worse 
selection  than  a  Maxwell  of  Culmeny. 

In  the  meantime,  Dane  still  awaited  his  foreign  com- 
mission, and  might  have  waited  indefinitely,  but  that 
once  again  a  poacher  played  a  part  in  the  shaping  of 
his  destiny.  There  were  plenty  of  them  in  that 
neighborhood;  while  rogue,  and  clown,  and  common- 
place individual  of  average  honesty  usually  outnumber 
either  the  saints  or  heroes  in  life's  comedy.  The 
poachers  were  netting  the  Culmeny  partridges,  and 
Dane  promised  to  assist  his  comrade  in  an  attempt  to 
capture  them. 


CHAPTER  IV 

THE  POACHER 

IT  was  a  chilly  night  when  Dane  crouched  in  very  damp 
clover  beside  a  straggling  hedge,  waiting  for  the 
poachers,  and  wishing  he  had  been  wise  enough  to  re- 
main at  home.  Rain  had  fallen  throughout  the  day, 
and  now  heavy  clouds  drifted  overhead,  while  a  chilly 
breeze  shook  an  eery  sighing  out  of  the  firs  behind  him. 
The  moon  was  seldom  visible,  but  a  subdued  lumines- 
cence filtered  through,  and  he  could  just  see  Maxwell 
crouching  in  a  neighboring  ditch  which  was  not  wholly 
dry. 

"What  are  you  meditating  upon,  Hilton?"  Maxwell 
asked. 

"I  was  just  thinking  what  a  fool  I  was  to  come  at  all, 
and  that  it  is  almost  time  I  went  home  again.  When  a 
man  has  had  tropical  fever  it  is  his  own  fault  if  he  suffers 
from  indulgence  in  amusements  of  this  description." 

"I  am  not  entirely  comfortable  either,"  Maxwell  said 
dryly.  "My  boots  are  full  of  water,  and  my  hair  is 
thick  with  sand;  but  I  dare  say  both  of  us  have  had 
worse  experiences.  If  those  fellows  don't  come  in  the 
next  ten  minutes  I'll  turn  back  with  you." 

Neither  said  anything  further  for  a  space.  The  firs 
moaned  behind  them,  the  dampness  chilled  them 
through,  and  the  odor  of  wet  clover  was  in  their  nostrils. 
When,  instead  of  ten  minutes,  nearly  half  an  hour  had 
passed,  there  was  a  low  whistle  from  a  hidden  keeper, 

43 


44   THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

and  Dane  could  dimly  see  several  indistinct  figures  in 
the  adjoining  meadow. 

"Kevan  and  the  constable  should  head  them  off," 
whispered  Maxwell.  "I'll  race  you  for  the  first 
prisoner,  Hilton!" 

It  was  characteristic  of  Maxwell  that  he  had  worked 
an  opening  ready  in  the  hedge,  and  slipped  through  it, 
while  Dane  hurled  himself  crashing  upon  the  thorns. 
He  broke  through  them,  somehow,  and  noticed  very 
little  as  he  raced  across  the  dripping  aftermath  except 
that  two  men  strove  to  drag  something  over  the  oppo- 
site hedge.  Before  he  could  reach  it,  Maxwell  had 
separated  from  him,  and  because  the  moon  shone  down 
through  a  rift  in  the  clouds,  he  saw  him  clear  the  hedge 
in  a  flying  bound.  The  next  moment  he  had  his  hand 
on  the  collar  of  one  man  brought  up  by  the  thorns. 
Dane  saw  his  face  for  an  instant,  and  then,  when  the 
other  kicked  him  savagely  on  the  knee,  he  shifted  his 
hand  to  his  throat,  and  was  doing  his  best  to  choke  the 
fight  out  of  him  when  he  heard  footsteps  behind  him, 
and  something  descended  heavily  upon  his  head.  He 
fell  with  a  violence  that  shook  the  remaining  senses  out 
of  him,  and  lay  vacantly  listening  to  the  sound  of  run- 
ning feet  and  hoarse  shouts  which  grew  fainter  in  the 
distance,  until  Maxwell,  returning,  shook  him  by  the 
arm.  It  was  dark  again  now,  for  the  moon  had  van- 
ished, and  a  thin  drizzle  was  falling.  Dane's  head 
ached  intolerably,  and  a  warm  trickle  ran  into  one  of 
his  eyes. 

"Are  you  badly  hurt,  Hilton?"  asked  Maxwell, 
stooping  and  holding  out  a  flask. 

"No,"  Dane  answered  dubiously,  as,  gripping  his 
comrade's  hand,  he  staggered  to  his  feet.  "Mine  is  a 


THE  POACHER  45 

pretty  thick  cranium,  but  somebody  did  their  best  to 
test  its  solidity  with  the  butt  of  a  gun.  Did  you  get 
them?" 

"We  did  not."  Maxwell,  who  seldom  showed  what 
he  felt,  evinced  no  chagrin.  "The  constable  managed 
to  stick  fast  in  the  one  gap  in  the  second  hedge;  but  we 
got  their  net,  and,  although  I  don't  wish  to  trouble  you 
if  you  are  not  fit,  if  you  could  describe  the  fellow  you 
grappled  with,  we  should  know  where  to  find  him. " 

Dane  did  so  to  the  best  of  his  ability. 

"It's  young  Jim  Johnstone!"  the  keeper  exclaimed; 
"an'  after  this  we  should  grip  him  trying  to  slip  off  by 
the  night  train.  I'm  minding  Mr.  Black  told  me  he'd 
e'en  be  sitting  up  in  case  yon  rascals  killed  onybody,  an' 
ye  needed  authority.  He's  a  pleasant-spoken  gentle- 
man, an'  this  is  a  clear  case  o'  unlawful  woundin'." 

"Start  at  once  with  that  fool  of  a  policeman!"  said 
Maxwell.  "Now,  Hilton,  if  you  can  manage  to  walk  as 
far  as  the  road,  I  will  drive  you  home. " 

He  held  out  his  arm,  but  grew  tired  long  before  they 
reached  his  trap:  Dane  was  no  featherweight,  and  he 
leaned  upon  him  heavily.  When  Maxwell  helped  his 
comrade  down  before  The  Larches  there  were  lights  in 
the  lower  windows,  though  it  was  very  late,  and  its 
owner  stood  upon  the  steps  awaiting  them. 

"I  could  not  sleep  until  I  heard  whether  you  had 
caught  the  rascals,"  he  began.  "But  what's  this? 
Have  they  hurt  you,  Hilton?" 

"Not  much,  sir,"  answered  Dane. 

Seeing  Mrs.  Chatterton  in  the  hall,  he  shook  off 
Maxwell's  arm,  and  attempted  to  enter  it  unassisted  to 
prove  his  assertion.  The  attempt,  however,  was  a 
distinct  failure.  He  tripped  upon  a  mat,  reeled  forward 


46   THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

drunkenly,  and,  clutching  at  the  nearest  chair,  sank 
into  it,  presenting  a  sufficiently  surprising  spectacle,  for 
his  collar,  as  he  subsequently  found,  was  burst,  while 
there  were  generous  rents  in  his  garments,  and  the  red 
trickle  flowed  faster  down  his  face.  Then  there  followed 
confusion,  for  Mrs.  Chatterton  was  a  gentle  but  easily 
disconcerted  lady,  and  her  husband  addicted  to  over- 
vigorous  action.  So,  while  the  one  proceeded  in  search 
of  bandages,  and,  not  finding  them,  returned  to  ask  use- 
less questions  and,  in  spite  of  his  feeble  protests,  pour 
cold  water  over  Dane's  injured  head,  Chatterton  smote 
a  gong  and  hurled  confused  orders  at  the  startled  ser- 
vants. This  lasted  until  a  dainty  figure  came  swiftly 
down  the  stairway,  and  chaos  was  reduced  to  order  when 
Lilian  took  control  with  a  firm  hand. 

"Don't  trouble  him  with  questions,  Aunty,  but  get 
some  brandy,  quick!"  she  said.  " Uncle,  please  do  not 
make  any  more  useless  noise,  but  ask  one  of  these  fool- 
ish women  to  bring  hot  water.  Annie,  bring  me  the 
arnica,  and  the  first  piece  of  clean  linen  you  can 
find.  Now,  Hilton,  you  are  not  hurt  very  badly,  are 
you?" 

She  bent  down,  with  the  light  of  a  big  hanging  lamp 
upon  her,  and,  forgetting  the  faintness  and  pain,  which 
was  considerable,  Dane  felt  his  heart  bound  within  him. 
In  spite  of  her  swift  orderliness,  the  girl's  eyes  were 
anxious  as  well  as  very  pitiful,  and  there  was  a  tension 
in  her  voice. 

"No,"  he  replied,  as  carelessly  as  he  could,  for  all  his 
pulses  were  throbbing.  "I  am  just  a  little  dizzy,  and 
shall  be  better  presently.  I  am  chiefly  ashamed  of 
making  such  a  scene,  Lily. " 

It  did  the  man  good  to  see  the  relief  in  his  attendant's 


THE  POACHER  47 

face.  Miss  Chatterton  flushed  a  little  under  his  gaze 
and  became  once  more  strictly  practical. 

"The  wound  is  worse  than  you  suppose,"  she  said, 
with  a  slight  but  perceptible  shiver.  "  Take  a  mouthful 
of  this  brandy,  and  I  will  fix  a  dressing.  Aunty,  hold 
the  bandage,  and  give  me  the  scissors!" 

She  did  all  very  cleverly,  then  slipped  away;  and  ten 
minutes  later  Dane  was  glad  to  bid  Chatterton  and  his 
wife  good-night.  His  head  still  throbbed  painfully— 
for  the  trigger-guard  which  struck  his  forehead  had 
bitten  deep — and,  having  seen  what  pleased  him 
greatly,  he  desired  to  be  alone  to  think. 

When  he  had  gone,  Mrs.  Chatterton  looked  at  her 
husband. 

"Did  it  strike  you  as  significant  that  Lily  should  come 
down  at  a  few  moments'  notice  dressed  just  as  she  left 
us?"  she  asked. 

"Am  I  quite  a  fool?"  said  Chatterton,  and  then  added 
in  oracular  fashion:  "Hilton  Dane  will  make  his  mark 
some  day;  and  it  was  his  father's  roll  which  started  me 
on  the  way  to  prosperity. " 

As  it  happened,  Lilian  Chatterton  had  also  food  for 
reflection,  and  sat  long  by  an  open  window  looking  out 
into  the  night.  There  was  no  doubt,  she  admitted, 
that  she  found  Hilton  Dane's  society  congenial.  His 
swift  deference  to  all  her  wishes  pleased  her;  and  as  he 
had  intimated  that  he  desired  nothing  more  than  her 
friendship,  there  was  no  reason  why  it  should  not  be 
granted  him.  Under  different  circumstances  the  girl 
fancied  that  her  interest  might  have  carried  her  farther; 
but  Thomas  Chatterton's  thinly  veiled  command  was 
a  fatal  barrier.  Even  then  she  frowned,  remembering 
the  summary  manner  in  which  he  had  purposed  to  dis- 


48   THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

pose  of  her  as  though  she  were  a  chattel.  Nevertheless* 
she  had  been  badly  startled  by  the  sight  of  the  wounded 
man;  and  the  fact  remained  that  when  her  eyes  first 
rested  upon  him  she  grew  almost  faint  with  a  sudden  and 
wholly  unexplainable  fear.  Lilian  wondered,  with  a 
crimsoning  of  her  face,  whether  she  had  betrayed  the 
relief  she  certainly  experienced  on  discovering  that  his 
injuries  were  not  serious;  and  then  she  closed  the  window 
with  somewhat  unnecessary  violence. 

The  next  sun  had  not  long  risen  when  Dane  went  out 
shakily  into  the  freshness  of  the  morning.  His  brain 
had  refused  duty  during  the  preceding  night,  and  there 
were  questions  to  be  grappled  with.  Hilton  Dane 
possessed  a  long  patience,  but,  although  a  chivalrous 
person,  he  was  not  a  fool.  He  shrank  from  the  thought 
of  allowing  the  iron-master's  ward  to  be  forced  into  a 
union  with  him,  even  if  that  were  possible — about  which, 
however,  knowing  the  young  lady's  character,  he  was 
very  doubtful.  Also,  he  was  at  present  a  compara- 
tively poor  man,  and  though  he  believed  there  was  a 
moderate  fortune  in  his  invention,  he  saw  that  some 
time  must  elapse  before  he  could  realize  it.  Abus- 
ing his  host's  interference  fervently,  he  decided  that 
because  the  continual  effort  to  keep  silence  was  wearing 
his  resolution  down,  it  would  be  well  to  avoid  further 
temptation  by  leaving  The  Larches. 

He  had  just  arrived  at  this  decision  when  Chatterton 
came  upon  him. 

"You  do  not  look  at  all  fit,  Hilton,"  said  the  elder 
man.  "The  cut  on  your  forehead  would,  of  course, 
account  for  that;  but  it  has  struck  me  lately  that  some- 
thing is  troubling  you.  I  refrain  on  principle  from 
prying  into  other  folks'  affairs;  but,  considering  the 


THE  POACHER  49 

time  I  have  known  you,  if  you  have  any  difficulty,  I 
think  you  might  confide  it  to  me. " 

Dane  understood  what  lay  behind  this,  and  he 
felt  that  it  was  the  last  thing  under  the  circumstances  he 
would  think  of  doing. 

"You  have  made  my  stay  here  so  pleasant  that  if  I 
remain  much  longer  I  shall  never  be  fit  for  work  again, " 
he  said.  "I  have  accordingly  decided  to  run  up  to 
London,  and,  if  the  railroad  builders  have  not  my  work 
cut  out,  look  round  for  another  foreign  commission." 

Thomas  Chatterton  started  a  little,  and  tried  to  hide 
a  frown. 

"I  thought  you  had  changed  your  mind  after  the 
letter  you  showed  me,  and  decided  to  stay  in  this  coun- 
try. It  strikes  me  as  downright  folly  to  risk  accidents 
and  fevers  abroad  with  such  a  patent  in  your  hands. 
Your  pump  would  beat  the  best  pulsometer  ever  put 
into  a  mine.  If  you  don't  approve  of  the  offers  you 
have  received,  and  my  suggestions,  why  can't  you  sell 
it  to  the  public  through  a  limited  company?" 

Dane  laughed  a  little. 

"As  I  said  before,  sir,  by  the  time  I  paid  promoters 
and  directors,  there  would  be  very  little  left  for  me.  If 
the  pump,  which  cost  years  of  thought  and  experiment- 
ing, is  to  enrich  anybody  it  shall  be  its  inventor;  and 
another  good  foreign  commission  should  supply  me  with 
the  necessary  money. " 

"Listen  to  me,"  said  Chatterton.  "It  is  time  I 
spoke  plainly.  I  have  been  called  a  hard  man,  but  I 
hope  I  am  equally  just,  and  I  had  to  fight  desperately 
for  a  foothold  at  the  beginning.  Well,  I  kept  a  mental 
ledger,  and  no  man  ever  robbed  or  assisted  me  but  I 
made  against  his  name  a,  debit  or  credit  entry.  Some 


50   THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

of  those  debts  were  heavy,  but  in  due  time  I  paid  them 
back  in  full." 

For  a  moment  Chatterton  certainly  looked  a  hard 
man  as  he  shut  his  hand  slowly,  and  with  a  very  grim 
expression  in  his  heavy- jawed  visage,  stared  steadily 
at  Dane.  Then  the  grimness  vanished  as  he  added: 

"There  is  still  a  sum  standing  to  the  credit  of  Henry 
Dane,  and  I  feel  ashamed  often  that  I  have  let  it  stand 
so  long.  There  is  still  one  way  in  which  you  could  help 
me  wipe  it  off,  if  none  of  those  mentioned  already  suits 
you.  My  niece  will  not  leave  me  dowerless — and — for 
if  it  had  not  been  so  I  should  not  have  spoken — you 
expressed  your  admiration  pretty  openly  some  years 
ago." 

Dane  had  no  enviable  task  before  him,  but,  remem- 
bering his  compact,  he  was  determined  to  accom- 
plish it,  even  if  it  should  be  necessary  to  use  a  little 
brutality. 

"I  am  afraid  I  see  two  somewhat  important  objec- 
tions, sir,"  he  answered  quietly.  "In  the  first  place, 
it  is  not  apparent  that  the  lady  approves  of  me. " 

"Pshaw!"  said  Chatterton.  "When  I  was  your  age 
I  never  allowed  such  trifles  to  daunt  me.  You  surely 
did  not  expect  her  to  say  she  had  been  patiently  waiting 
for  you?" 

"I  think  I  mentioned  two  objections,  sir,  and  the 
second  is  of  almost  equal  importance,"  Dane  responded 
gravely.  "  I  am  at  present  a  poor  man,  you  see. " 

Thomas  Chatterton  faced  round  on  him  again  with 
his  jaw  protruded,  and  a  deeper  hue  in  his  generally 
sufficiently  florid  countenance. 

"You  need  not  be.  unless  you  are  fond  of  poverty. 
You  mean " 


THE  POACHER  51 

"That  a  boy  and  girl  attachment  seldom  lasts  long — 
on  either  side. " 

Chatterton  moved  a  few  paces  forward,  with  the  dry 
cough  which  those  who  knew  his  temper  recognized  as  a 
danger  signal,  then  wheeled  round  upon  his  heel  and 
strode  toward  the  house;  and  Dane  noticed  that  he 
kicked  an  unoff ending  dog  he  usually  fondled. 

As  luck  would  have  it,  the  next  person  Dane  met  was 
Lilian,  and  she  looked  very  winsome  as  she  stood  bare- 
headed under  the  morning  sunshine  in  her  thin  white 
dress.  Dane's  lips  set  tight  as  he  watched  her,  then 
suddenly  his  face  softened  again. 

"I  am  glad  to  see  you  recovering,  Hilton, "  she 
greeted  him.  "That  hat  hides  my  bandages  nicely. 
Do  you  feel  able  to  walk  slowly  over  to  Culmeny  with 
me  to-day  ?" 

It  was  a  tantalizing  question:  Dane  felt  not  only  able 
but  very  willing  to  walk  across  the  breadth  of  Scotland 
in  Lilian  Chatterton's  company.  He  feared  however, 
that  his  moral  strength  would  prove  unequal  to  the 
strain  the  excursion  might  impose,  for  it  was  growing 
very  difficult  to  observe  the  conditions  of  the  indefinite 
compact. 

"I  am  very  sorry,  but  I  have  letters  to  write, "  he  said. 

Lilian  Chatterton  was  a  trifle  quick-tempered,  and 
though  Dane  knew  it,  and  considered  it  not  a  fault  but 
a  characteristic,  he  wondered  at  the  ways  of  women  as 
she  answered: 

"I  could  not,  of  course,  expect  you  to  delay  your 
correspondence,  which  is  no  doubt  important.  Have 
you  run  out  of  those  new  powder  cartridges  ?" 

Dane  felt  that,  under  the  circumstances,  this  was 
particularly  hard  on  him,  but  he  smiled  dryly. 


52   THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

"The  correspondence  relates  to  my  departure  for 
London.  I  want  you  to  listen,  Lilian.  I  have  just 
had  an  interview  with  your  uncle,  which  makes  my 
absence  appear  desirable.  Perhaps  you  can  guess  its 
purport,  and  the  gist  of  what  he  said." 

The  clear  rose-color  deepened  a  little  in  the  girl's 
cheeks,  but  she  answered  steadily. 

"I  will  admit  the  possibility.  The  most  important 
question  is  what  you  said  to  him. " 

Now  Dane  had  not  only  subdued  mutinous  alien 
laborers,  and  held  them  to  their  task,  but  he  had  even 
been  complimented  by  a  South  American  Spaniard  upon 
the  incisive  vocabulary  which  helped  him  to  accomplish 
it.  Nevertheless,  at  that  moment  he  felt  almost  abject, 
and  found  speech  of  any  kind  very  difficult. 

"Are  you  ashamed  of  your  answer?77  asked  the  girl. 

"I  am,"  Dane  admitted.  "There  was,  however, 
only  one  way  in  which  I  could  satisfy  Mr.  Chatterton 
without  running  the  risk  of  allowing  him  to  apply  con- 
siderable misdirected  energy  to  the  task  of  convincing  a 
second  person.  Therefore,  though  I  did  not  like  it,  I 
took  that  way.  He  was  not  pleased  with  me. " 

"You  told  him "  Lilian  began,  coloring  still  more. 

"I  did,"  said  Dane  grimly.  "Horribly  unflattering, 
wasn't  it;  but  it  was  the  best  I  could  do  for  you." 

The  girl  first  experienced  a  wholly  illogical  desire  to 
humiliate  the  speaker;  but,  recognizing  the  unreason- 
ableness of  this,  she  reflected  a  moment,  and  then 
laughed  mirthlessly. 

"It  should  certainly  prove  effective.  Still,  a  woman 
would  have  found  a  neater  way  out  of  the  difficulty!" 

Lilian  left  him,  and  when  the  man  passed  out  of  ear- 
shot into  the  shrubbery,  he  used  a  few  pointed  and  for- 


THE  POACHER  53 

bidden  adjectives  in  connection  with  what  he  termed 
his  luck. 

He  was  leaning  moodily  upon  a  gate,  looking  down  on 
a  sunlit  stubble-field  the  following  afternoon,  when  the 
next  link  was  forged  in  the  chain  of  circumstances  which, 
beginning  with  Chatterton's  fishing,  would  drag  him 
through  strange  adventures.  There  was  late  honey- 
suckle on  the  hedges,  and  festoons  of  warm-tinted 
straw.  Running  water  sang  soothingly  beneath  the 
pine  branches  overhanging  a  neighboring  hollow;  while 
all  the  wide  vista  of  river,  moor,  and  fell  was  mellowed 
by  the  golden  autumn  haze:  Dane,  however,  was  far 
from  happy.  He  was  in  no  way  jealous  of  Carsluith 
Maxwell,  which  was  perhaps  surprising;  but,  in  addition 
to  his  other  troubles,  it  did  not  please  him  that  the  latter 
should  have  accompanied  Miss  Chatterton  home  on 
foot  from  Culmeny.  They  had  also  been  an  inordinate 
time  over  the  journey. 

Presently,  a  little  brown-faced  child  came  pattering 
barefooted  down  the  lane,  and  stopping,  glanced  at  him 
shyly,  as  though  half  afraid.  She  was  a  pretty,  elfish  lit- 
tle thing,  though  her  well-mended  garments  betokened 
industrious  poverty.  She  apparently  gathered  courage 
when  the  man  smiled  at  her. 

"Whom  are  you  staring  so  hard  at,  my  little  maid?" 
said  he. 

The  child  fished  out  a  strip  of  folded  paper  from 
somewhere  about  her  diminutive  person,  and  held  it  up 
to  him. 

"Ye  will  be  the  Mr.  Dane  who's  staying  at  The 
Larches?" 

Dane  nodded,  and  the  girl  glanced  up  and  down  the 
lane  suspiciously. 


54   THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

"Then  Sis  telt  me  to  give  ye  this  when  there  was 
naebody  to  see." 

"And  who  is  your  sister,  and  what's  it  all  about?" 
asked  Dane;  and  the  little  thing  smiled  roguishly. 

"Just  Mary  Johnstone.  Maybe  it  would  tell  ye  gin 
ye  lookit  inside  it,  sir. " 

She  vanished  the  next  moment,  with  a  patter  of  bare 
feet,  leaving  Dane  to  stare  blankly  at  the  folded  paper. 

"  Now,  who  is  Mary  Johnstone,  and  what  can  she  want 
with  me?"  he  wondered,  as  he  prepared  to  follow  the 
child's  advice  and  read  the  missive.  When  this  had 
been  done,  however,  he  was  not  greatly  enlightened. 

"I'm  taking  a  great  liberty,"  it  ran.  "I  am  in  great 
trouble,  and  you  are  the  one  person  who  can  help  me.  If 
you  would  not  have  two  little  children  go  hungry  all  win- 
ter, you  will  meet  me  by  the  planting  at  Hallows  Brig  in 
the  gloaming  to-morrow.  I  saw  you  at  The  Larches, 
and  thought  I  could  trust  you. " 

"Very  confiding  of  Miss  Johnstone,  whoever  she  is, 
but  I'm  thankful  my  conscience  is  clear,"  thought 
Dane.  It  was  unfortunate  that  he  did  not  obey  the 
first  impulse  which  prompted  him  to  destroy  the  note. 
Instead  of  this,  he  lighted  another  cigar,  and  sat  down 
to  consider  the  affair. 

Just  then  the  local  constable,  who  on  an  eventful 
occasion  had  also  stuck  fast  in  the  hedge,  came  tramp- 
ing through  the  stubble  with  elephantine  gait. 

"Grand  weather  the  day,  sir,"  he  beamed.  "Ye 
will  have  heard  we  grippit  the  man  who  broke 
yere  heid. " 

"I'm  summoned  as  a  witness;  but  who  is  Mary  John- 
stone?"  asked  Dane.  "You  should  know  everybody 
about  here." 


THE  POACHER  55 

"Old  Rab  Johnstone's  daughter;  and  that's  no  great 
credit  to  the  lass.  Rab's  overfond  of  the  whisky,  and 
never  does  nothing  when  he  can  help  it,  which  is  gey 
often,  I'm  thinking.  The  daughter's  a  hard  working 
lass — sews  for  the  gentlefolks;  and  she  and  her  brither 
between  them  keep  the  two  mitherless  bairns  fed. 
It's  him  we've  got  in  the  lock-up  for  breaking  yere 
heid." 

"Oh,"  said  Dane,  as  a  light  dawned  upon  him. 
"Then  Mary  Johnstone  would  be  the  pretty,  light- 
haired  girl  I  saw  sewing  for  Miss  Chatterton?" 

"That  same,  sir"  answered  the  constable,  with  pro- 
fessional alacrity.  "Miss  Chatterton  has  missed 
nothing,  has  she?" 

"Of  course  not!"  Dane  said  impatiently.  "I  was 
only  inquiring  out  of  curiosity.  You  need  not  mention 
it.  Would  this  coin  be  of  any  use  to  you?" 

The  official  admitted  that  it  might  be;  but  when  he 
appeared  to  smother  a  bovine  chuckle,  Dane  turned 
upon  him. 

"What  the  deuce  is  amusing  you  so?" 

"Naething,  sir,"  the  man  answered  sheepishly. 
"I'm  taken  that  way  whiles  in  hot  weather." 

The  constable  furnished  further  particulars  about  the 
poacher's  family  before  he  departed;  and  Dane,  reflect- 
ing that  his  must  be  the  most  damaging  testimony 
against  the  prisoner,  understood  why  Mary  Johnstone 
had  sent  for  him.  It  was  perhaps  foolish,  but  the  child's 
face  had  attracted  him;  and  deciding  that  the  lot  of  the 
pretty  seamstress,  struggling  to  bring  up  her  sisters 
under  the  conditions  mentioned,  must  be  a  hard  one  at 
the  best,  he  resolved  at  least  to  hear  what  she  had  to 
say. 


CHAPTER  V 

THE   TRYST  AT  HALLOWS  BRIG 

IT  was  a  clear,  cool  evening  when  Carsluith  Maxwell 
leaned  on  the  rails  of  a  footbridge  which  spanned  the 
river,  looking  up  at  the  old  place  of  Culmeny.  It 
rose  from  the  stony  hillside,  a  straggling  pile  of  time- 
worn  masonry,  with  all  its  narrow  windows  aflame  with 
the  evening  light,  and  the  green  of  ivy  softening  its 
rugged  simplicity.  A  square  tower  formed  its  major 
portion,  and  this  had  been  built  with  no  pretense  at 
adornment  in  troubled  days  when  the  Maxwells  had 
won  and  held  their  possessions  with  the  mailed  hand. 
They  had  been,  for  the  most  part,  soldiers  of  fortune, 
and  their  descendant  recalled  the  traditions  of  his  race 
as,  turning,  he  looked  south  and  east  across  the  shining 
flood-tide  toward  the  Solway  sands. 

More  of  his  forbears  had,  when  there  was  scarcity 
at  Culmeny — which  was  generally  the  case — ridden  that 
way  in  steel  cap  and  dinted  harness  than  ever  rode  back, 
and  Carsluith  Maxwell  had  hitherto  fulfilled  the  family 
destiny,  chancing  his  life  in  modern  ventures  where  the 
risks  were  perhaps  as  heavy  as  any  the  old  moss-troopers 
ran.  Now,  however,  he  had  come  to  a  turning-point  in 
his  career,  and  that  night  must  decide  whether  he 
applied  his  energies  to  the  slow  conversion  of  barren 
mosses  into  arable  land,  or  went  forth  again  to  seek  his 
fortune  over  seas.  The  wandering  life  appealed  to  his 
instincts;  and  fortune  had  not  wholly  evaded  him;  but 

56 


THE  TRYST  AT  HALLOWS  BRIG       57 

he  had  recognized  of  late  that  unless  he  could  share  it 
with  one  woman,  even  prosperity  would  have  little  value 
for  him.  There  was  a  trace  of  melancholy  almost  akin 
to  superstition  in  his  nature,  and  it  was  with  a  curious 
smile  that  he  turned  toward  Culmeny  to  put  his  fate  to 
the  test.  If  Lilian  Chatterton  would  not  listen,  it 
was  high  time  to  begin  his  search  for  the  African 
mine. 

In  the  meantime,  Hilton  Dane  sat  in  the  hall  of  Cul- 
meny waiting  for  a  word  with  Maxwell,  and  also  until 
it  was  time  to  keep  his  appointment  at  the  Hallows  Brig. 
Three  narrow,  diamond-paned  windows  with  rose  lights 
in  the  crown  of  their  lancets  pierced  one  end  of  the  hall, 
and  the  fading  sunlight  beating  through,  forced  up  into 
brightness  the  pale-tinted  dresses  of  his  companions. 
They  were  young  and  comely  women,  and,  because  the 
rest  of  the  dark-paneled  room  was  wrapped  in  shadow, 
neither  face  nor  dainty  figure  suffered  from  being  sil- 
houetted against  a  somber  background.  A  cluster  of 
late  roses  in  a  silver  bowl,  and  the  tawny  skin  of  an 
African  leopard  on  the  polished  floor,  both  touched  by 
the  tinted  gleam,  formed  by  contrast  glowing  patches  of 
color.  Nevertheless,  Dane's  eyes  most  often  rested 
upon  Lilian  Chatterton,  who  sat  near  an  open  window 
with  a  ruddy  glory  blazing  in  her  hair,  while  the  dark 
oak  behind  it  emphasized  the  delicate  chiseling  of  her 
face.  There  was  a  stamp  of  decision  upon  it  as  well  as 
refinement. 

"Is  it  not  wonderfully  peaceful  to-night?"  she  said, 
glancing  out  across  the  velvet  lawn.  A  few  roses  still 
flowered  along  one  side  of  it,  a  tall  clipped  hedge 
hemmed  it  in,  and,  beyond  the  lawn,  fir  wood,  yellow 
stubble,  and  meadow  rolled  down  to  the  silver  shining 


58   THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

of  the  sea.  The  whole  lay  steeped  in  the  sunset, 
serenely  beautiful;  but  the  black  shadow  of  the  firs 
lengthened  rapidly  across  the  grass. 

"You  are  all  very  silent,"  the  girl  continued. 
"  Why  does  not  somebody  agree  with  me?  Don't  you 
think  it  peaceful,  Margaret?  This  might  be  an 
enchanted  garden,  and  yonder  hedge  a  barrier  impass- 
able to  care.  It  is  good  to  talk  nonsense  occasionally; 
and  to-night  one  could  almost  fancy  that  no  cause  for 
trouble  might  enter  here." 

As  she  spoke,  Dane  noticed  that  the  gloom  of  the  firs 
had  swallowed  most  of  the  lawn,  and  the  coincidence 
struck  him  as  an  unfortunate  augury.  Lilian  had 
known  little  of  either  sorrow  or  care;  and  having  learned 
by  painful  experience  that  the  balance  of  light  and  dark- 
ness is  determined  by  immutable  law,  the  man  trem- 
bled for  her. 

Margaret  Maxwell  laughed  a  little. 

"You  are  distinctly  fanciful.  Culmeny  has  seen  very 
little  of  either  peace  or  prosperity.  The  spot  where  this 
very  garden  stands  was  once  worn  down  by  the  hoofs 
of  stolen  cattle,  and  the  feet  of  armed  men  bent  on 
exterminating  the  gentle  Maxwells  who  plundered  them. 
We  also  read  that  the  serpent  entered  Eden,  and  have 
the  authority  of  Milton  and  others  for  picturing  the 
Prince  of  Darkness  as  a  somewhat  courtly  gentleman; 
while  one  notices  that  when  there  is  unusual  harmony, 
trouble  not  infrequently  follows  the  advent  of  a  man. 
It  is  a  coincidence,  but  that  ditty  should  herald  Cars- 
luith's  coming." 

A  voice  rose  out  of  the  adjoining  meadow  chanting 
a  plaintive  ditty  in  an  unknown  tongue.  The  air 
resembled  nothing  Lilian  had  heard  before,  and  she 


THE  TRYST  AT  HALLOWS  BRIG       59 

leaned  forward  listening,  for  the  refrain,  pitched  in  a 
mournful  minor  key,  was  equally  striking. 

"I  did  not  know  your  brother  sang  so  well;  but 
I  do  not  like  that  song.  It  strikes  one  as  uncanny," 
she  said. 

Margaret  Maxwell  nodded. 

"It  is  West  African,  and  that,  I  understand,  is  an 
uncanny  country.  My  brother  spent  some  time  there. 
He  really  sings — as  he  does  most  things  when  he  thinks 
it  worth  while,  which  is  not  always — tolerably  well." 

The  song  died  away  as  Carsluith  Maxwell  came 
lightly  across  the  lawn,  and  Dane  noticed  that  the  last 
of  the  sunlight  faded  and  the  shadows  shut  in  both 
himself  and  Lilian  Chatter  ton  when  the  newcomer  en- 
tered through  the  open  window. 

"I  did  not  know  I  had  such  an  audience,  or  I  should 
have  been  too  diffident  to  play  the  nightingale,"  Max- 
well laughed. 

"Miss  Chatterton  did  not  like  your  song,  though  she 
admired  its  rendering,"  said  Margaret  mischievously. 
"But  what  put  that  doleful  composition  into  your  head 
to-night?" 

"Association  of  ideas,  most  probably,"  answered 
Maxwell,  with  a  smile  on  his  lips,  but  none  in  his  eyes. 
"I  met  the  post-carrier,  and  must  decide  forthwith 
whether  I  shall  follow  up  my  African  scheme  or  not. 
It  is  curious,  but  by  the  same  token  I'm  standing  with 
my  heel  on  the  neck  of  the  leopard,  and  I  feel  inclined  to 
say  God  send  it  be  a  true  augury.  You  have  your  foot 
upon  him,  too,  Miss  Chatterton;  and  that  is  a  very 
ill-omened  beast." 

' '  How  so  ?  "  ask ed  Lilian .  "It  cannot  b  e  very  large  or 
terrible,  to  judge  by  its  skin." 


60   THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

"It  holds  a  country  larger  than  Scotland  in  terror," 
replied  Maxwell.  "There  are  whole  tribes  of  black 
men  who  tremble  at  the  sight  of  a  tuft  of  leopard's 
fur." 

"As  an  insignia,  I  suppose;  but  the  beast  is  clearly 
vulnerable."  Lilian  stooped  and  pointed  to  the  fur. 
"Surely  that  is  the  work  of  a  bullet." 

"You  have  keen  eyes,"  said  Maxwell.  "The  tax- 
idermist did  his  best  to  hide  it.  That  hole  was  made 
when  I  first  pitted  myself  against  the  leopard  by  shoot- 
ing one  to  convince  my  carriers  the  thing  was  mortal. 
For  some  time  I  suspected  that  was  the  beginning  of  a 
duel." 

"And  now?"  interposed  his  sister,  with  a  trace  of 
anxiety. 

"Now  I  almost  hope  I  was  mistaken,"  said  Carsluith 
Maxwell.  "With  your  permission,  I  have  one  or  two 
things  to  see  to,  and  should  like  a  word  with  Hilton." 

They  went  out  together,  and  presently  Dane  returned 
alone  to  bid  Miss  Maxwell  adieu. 

"You  have  been  very  patient  during  the  last  hour," 
said  that  lady.  "Now  that  you  have  seen  Carsluith, 
one  could  not,  of  course,  expect  too  much  from  you." 

"I  have  been  very  self-indulgent,"  said  Dane,  who 
had  seen  the  elfish  child  again  and  promised  to  meet  his 
correspondent.  "Still,  there  is  a  limit  to  everybody's 
opportunities  for  enjoyment,  and  unfortunately  I  must 
tear  myself  away." 

Margaret  Maxwell  glanced  at  him  sharply,  for  she 
fancied  that  he  spoke  with  sincerity,  as  indeed  he  did; 
but  Dane,  having  given  his  promise,  intended  to  keep 
it.  She  also  glanced  at  Lilian,  and  decided  that  Miss 
Chatterton  was  not  wholly  pleased. 


THE  TRYST  AT  HALLOWS  BRIG       61 

"Carsluith  proposed  to  drive  you  both  home.  Can 
you  not  wait  until  he  is  ready?"  she  suggested. 

"I  fear  I  cannot,"  answered  Dane,  with  a  trace  of 
confusion.  "The  fact  is,  I  have  an  appointment  to 
keep." 

He  left  them  a  trifle  abruptly,  and  Miss  Maxwell 
turned  to  Lilian. 

"Whom  can  your  guest  have  an  appointment  with? 
He  looked  positively  guilty.  I  fear  that  he  must  have 
fallen  into  the  toils  of  some  rustic  beauty,  which,  con- 
sidering his  opportunities,  shows  a  deplorably  defective 
taste." 

If  Lilian  felt  any  resentment  she  showed  no  sign  of  it; 
but  she  was  a  little  more  quiet  than  usual  while  they 
awaited  the  return  of  Carsluith  Maxwell. 

Dane,  remembering  Lilian's  glance  of  interrogation, 
hurried  toward  the  Hallows  Brig  in  a  somewhat  uncer- 
tain humor.  Though  the  hillside  was  still  projected 
blackly  against  a  pale  gleam  of  saffron  above,  it  was 
nearly  but  not  quite  dark  when  he  reached  the  bridge, 
and  the  water  sang  mournfully  through  the  deepening 
gloom  of  the  firs.  The  cool  air  was  fragrant  with  the 
faint  sweetness  of  honeysuckle,  and  the  calling  of  curlew 
rose  from  a  misty  meadow;  and  it  seemed  to  Dane  that 
the  slight,  shadowy  figure  which  presently  flitted  toward 
him  was  in  keeping  with  the  spirit  of  the  scene.  When 
the  girl  halted  beside  him  there  was  still  just  sufficient 
light  to  show  that  her  face  was  comely.  Hilton  Dane 
was  not  given  to  wandering  fancies,  and  had  long 
carried  Lilian  Chatterton's  photograph  about  with 
him ;  but  he  felt  compassionate  when  he  saw  the  anxiety 
in  the  thin  face,  and  noticed  that  the  girl's  lips  were 
quivering. 


62   THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

"Miss  Johnstone,  I  presume?"  he  said.  "Will 
you  please  tell  me  why  you  sent  for  me?'7 

"I  will  try,  sir,"  was  the  answer.  "I  have  two  little 
sisters  to  bring  up  on  what  I  earn  by  my  needle,  and 
what  Jim  can  spare;  but  work  has  been  ill  to  get  at  the 
quarries,  and,  now  when  Jim's  in  prison,  and  winter's  no 
far  away,  I'm  afraid  to  wonder  what  will  be  the  outcome 
if  he  is  convicted." 

"He  should  have  considered  such  risks  before  he 
attempted  to  steal  another  man's  partridges,"  said 
Dane,  with  a  poor  attempt  at  severity. 

"Poaching  is  not  stealing,  sir!"  There  was  a  ring 
in  the  girl's  voice.  "Sorrow  on  the  game  that  steals 
the  farmer's  corn  to  make  a  rich  man's  pleasure,  and 
tempts  a  poor  man  to  his  ruin!  May  ye  never  learn,  sir, 
what  it  is  to  choose  between  stealing  and  starving." 

"The  question  is,  what  do  you  wish  me  to  do?" 

"To  let  Jim  off,  sir,"  was  the  answer;  and  the  girl's 
eyes  were  eager  to  tearfulness  as  she  fixed  them  on  the 
man,  who  frowned,  perhaps  because  he  felt  the  appeal  in 
them  almost  irresistible.  "It  was  a  dark  night,  and 
maybe  ye  could  not  be  quite  certain.  It  was  the  others 
who  tempted  him.  He  will  go  no  more  poaching  if  he 
once  wins  clear,  and  if  the  fiscal  sends  him  to  prison  the 
bairns  will  be  hungry  often  or  the  winter's  through. 
It's  for  their  sakes  I'm  asking;  and  the  neighbors  say 
there  will  be  no  conviction  if  ye  cannot  swear  to  Jim." 

Perhaps  it  was  Dane's  duty  to  sternly  rebuke  the 
pleader,  but  she  appeared  half-fed  and  desperately 
anxious;  and  the  face  of  her  tiny  sister,  with  its  look  of 
childish  confidence,  rose  up  before  his  fancy.  He  had 
once,  and  with  little  compunction,  cut  down  with  a 
shovel  a  frenzied  Italian  laborer  who  led  a  mutiny, 


THE  TRYST  AT  HALLOWS  BRIG       63 

but  now,  though  he  set  his  lips  firmly  for  a  moment,  his 
eyes  were  pitiful. 

"I  am  afraid  what  you  suggest  would  not  be  right," 
he  said  presently.  "Does  your  father  not  help  you  at 
all?" 

The  girl's  "No,"  expressed  a  good  deal,  and  the  de- 
spair in  her  voice  completed  the  man's  discomfiture. 

"I'm  sorry;  I  had  no  right  to  ask,"  he  said.  "I  am 
sure,  at  least,  that  it  was  not  your  brother  who  broke 
my  head,  because — because  he  was  not  in  a  position  to 
attack  anybody  just  then — and,  for  the  sake  of  the  little 
ones,  if  there  is  any  doubt  at  all — and  I  dare  say  there 
will  be,  he  shall  have  full  benefit.  But  I  cannot  set 
him  at  liberty  to  continue  poaching;  and  the  neigh- 
boring land-owners  will  probably  see  that  he  gets 
no  more  work  at  the  quarries;  so  he  must  take  a  letter 
from  me  to  a  contractor  who  will  no  doubt  find  him 
employment." 

Here,  to  the  consternation  of  Dane,  who  did  not  know 
that  his  underfed  and  overworked  companion  had  done 
a  courageous  and,  in  the  eyes  of  her  neighbors,  a  very 
suspicious  thing,  the  girl  broke  out  into  half -choked 
sobbing. 

"You  really  must  not  cry,"  he  pleaded  awkwardly. 
"It  is  distressing  to  me;  and  it  is  not  my  fault  that  your 
brother's  friends  cut  my  head  open.  However,  as  I 
am  the  unfortunate  cause  of  your  distress,  if  the  little 
ones  have  suffered  already  it  would  be  my  duty  to — to 
see  they  didn't — you  understand  me?" 

The  girl,  though  still  tearful,  drew  herself  up  with 
some  show  of  pride. 

"I'm  no  asking  ye  for  money.  The  relief  was  just 
overmuch  for  me;  but,  and  it's  a  last  favor,  ye  will  no 


64   THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

tell  Miss  Chatterton.     Her  good  word  means  work  and 
bread  to  me." 

"I  am  not  likely  to  tell  Miss  Chatterton,"  the  man 
assured  her;  then  added  in  haste:  "If  I  did,  she  would 
not  blame  you." 

"Maybe!  Ye  will  not  tell  her,"  the  girl  said  enig- 
matically, and  then  once  more  caught  her  breath. 

Dane,  being  unpleasantly  uncertain  what  she  might 
say  or  do  in  an  hysterical  attack,  felt  it  incumbent  on 
him  to  soothe  her,  and  laid  a  hand  reassuringly  on  her 
shoulder.  It  is  possible  that  his  companion  found  com- 
fort in  the  grasp,  or  instinctively  recognized  the  touch 
of  an  honest  man,  for  she  made  no  effort  to  evade  it. 
As  it  happened,  the  lane  was  grass-grown  and  sandy,  and 
the  river  frothed  noisily  down  a  rapid  beyond  the  bridge. 
Thus  neither  of  them  heard  the  fall  of  hoofs  until  a  sud- 
den glare  of  light  beat  into  the  face  of  the  man.  Fate 
had  decreed  that  the  driver  of  the  approaching  vehicle 
should  not  only  light  the  lamps  a  little  earlier  than  usual, 
but  choose  the  longest  road. 

The  result  was  unfortunate,  for  Dane,  acting  on 
impulse,  drew  the  girl  farther  back  into  the  shadow  of 
the  hedge,  and  stood  before  her  with  his  hand  still  on 
her  arm.  The  light  had  partly  dazzled  him,  but  he 
recognized  in  the  occupants  of  the  dog-cart  Lilian  Chat- 
terton and  Carsluith  Maxwell,  and  barely  choked  back 
an  expletive.  Neither,  if  they  had  seen  him,  showed 
any  sign  of  recognition,  which,  however,  was  hardly  to 
be  expected  under  the  circumstances.  Then,  as  the 
vehicle  jolted  on,  the  girl,  seeing  the  chagrin  in  the  man's 
face,  gazed  at  him  curiously,  and  with  half-coherent 
thanks  hurried  away,  leaving  Dane  in  a  state  of  savage 
dismay. 


THE  TRYST  AT  HALLOWS  BRIG       65 

"It  is  confoundedly  hard  on  an  unfortunate  and 
innocent  man!  This  is  a  situation  which  will  require 
considerable  explaining,  and  I  shall  probably  never  have 
an  opportunity  for  attempting  it,"  he  muttered. 

In  the  meantime  Lilian  Chatterton  felt  the  hot  blood 
surge  upward  from  her  neck,  and  was  thankful  that  the 
darkness  partly  hid  her  face.  It  is  true  that  she  had 
effectively,  so  she  hoped,  put  an  end  to  any  aspirations 
Dane  might  have  cherished;  but  when  he  had  once 
accepted  the  position  there  was  no  longer  any  necessity 
to  conceal  the  fact  that  to  a  certain  degree  she  found  his 
society  congenial,  or  to  consider  how  far  her  interest  in 
him  might  carry  her.  His  complaisance  had  been  the 
more  gratifying  because  she  fancied  it  was  not  every 
woman  who  could  bend  such  an  individual  to  her  will. 
Lilian,  however,  had  not  only  set  up  a  somewhat  ele- 
vated standard  of  conduct  for  herself,  but  was  inclined 
to  judge  harshly  those  who  fell  beneath  it;  and  now 
she  was  unmistakably,  if  illogically,  angry.  The  knowl- 
edge that  the  man  had  gone  out  fresh  from  her  presence 
to  keep  such  an  assignation  stung  her  pride  to  the  quick, 
and  brought  the  crimson  to  her  very  forehead.  It  was, 
she  considered,  an  unforgivable  insult.  Still,  she  had 
but  seen  him  dimly  for  a  second,  and  might  be  mistaken, 
and  so  she  turned  toward  her  companion. 

"  It  is  curious  that  I  should  fancy  there  was  something 
familiar  in  the  voices  we  overheard,"  she  said  as  lightly 
as  she  could. 

Maxwell  had  learned  discretion. 

"  Voices  are  always  deceptive,"  he  answered.     "  One 

should  never  trust  to  a  fanciful  resemblance.     The 

bridge  is  a  favorite  trysting-place  for  rustic  lovers; 

as  one  result  of  the  sudden  appearance  of  a  pair  of  them, 


66   THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

this  excitable  beast  managed  to  upset  me  the  last  time  I 
approached  it." 

Carsluith  Maxwell  had  done  his  best  for  his  friend, 
and  it  was  not  his  fault  that  he  had  only  confirmed  the 
girl's  suspicions,  and  set  her  wondering  if  all  men  were 
equally  perfidious. 

"That  being  so,  was  it  not  very  thoughtless  of 
you  to  drive  me  this  way?"  she  inquired,  with  some 
asperity. 

" Guilty,"  laughed  Maxwell.  "May  I  plead  in  ex- 
tenuation that  it  is  the  longest?" 

He  sprang  down  and  looped  the  reins  round  a  gate- 
post when  they  reached  the  winding  drive  which  led  up 
to  The  Larches. 

"Do  you  mind  alighting  here,  Miss  Chatterton?"  he 
asked. 

"No,"  said  Lilian.     "But  may  I  inquire  the  reason?" 

"A  desire  not  to  risk  your  safety  a  second  time.  The 
drive  is  very  dark,  the  horse  addicted  to  bolting  on 
opportunity;  and  it  would  be  hard  to  do  justice  to 
what  I  must  tell  you  if  I  were  forced  to  watch  him.  The 
task  is  sufficiently  beyond  me  already;  I  would  give 
a  good  deal  for  the  power  of  eloquence." 

Lilian  was  startled,  for  the  speaker  had  certainly  not 
worn  his  heart  on  his  sleeve. 

"Could  you  not  wait  until  to-morrow?"  she  asked 
with  some  trepidation. 

"I  am  afraid  not,"  said  Maxwell,  a  trifle  grimly. 
"  I  fear  this  must  be  a  surprise  to  you,  but  circumstances 
prevent  my  waiting,  and  it  is  even  better  to  hear  one's 
sentence  than  to  remain  in  suspense.  Won't  you 
listen?" 

Lilian,  seeing  there  was  no  escape,  bent  her  head; 


THE  TRYST  AT  HALLOWS  BRIG       67 

and,  if  Maxwell  had  not  the  gift  of  eloquence,  he  could 
compress  a  good  deal  into  a  few  brief  sentences.  There 
was  no  superfluous  protestation.  The  man  spoke 
abruptly,  but  Lilian  could  not  doubt  the  earnestness 
in  his  voice,  or,  as  he  stood  hat  in  hand  under  the  lamp- 
light, mistake  the  look  in  his  eyes.  She  saw  that  what 
he  offered  was  the  enduring  love  of  one  who  could 
be  trusted  to  the  utmost,  and  the  few  pointed  words 
revealed  depths  of  tenderness  she  had  hardly  suspected 
in  him. 

"I  am  sorry,  very  sorry — but  it  is  impossible,"  she 
said  softly. 

Maxwell  moved  a  pace  or  two  forward,  and  his  face 
seemed  to  have  grown  suddenly  haggard. 

"Think,"  he  urged  hoarsely.  "This  means  so  much 
to  me.  Will  it  always  be  impossible?  I  shall  not 
change." 

Lilian  fancied  she  could  believe  him.  She  looked 
him  fully  in  the  eyes  as  she  answered. 

"It  can  never  be  possible.  I  am  sorry.  If  I  had 
known,  I  should  have  tried  to  warn  you.  You  must 
forget  me." 

Maxwell  recognized  finality  in  her  tone.  For  the 
space  of  several  seconds  he  turned  his  head  away.  Then 
he  faced  round  again,  speaking  very  quietly: 

"You  have  nothing  to  reproach  yourself  with.  The 
mistake  was  mine.  I  shall,  however,  never  forget  you; 
and  I  want  you  to  promise  that  if  any  adversity  over- 
takes you — which  God  forbid — you  will  remember 
me.  I  sail  for  Africa  shortly,  and  it  may  be  long  before 
we  meet  again.  Now  I  will  walk  with  you  up  the 
drive." 

He  held  out  his  arm,  and  Lilian  wondered  a  little  at 


68   THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

his  composure  as  she  laid  her  hand  on  it  and  they  passed 
together  into  the  blackness  of  the  firs. 

Miss  Chatterton  had  not  long  joined  her  aunt  when 
Dane  came  in,  and  glanced  in  her  direction  as  he  made 
some  not  oversapient  observation  to  Chatterton.  She 
did  not  avoid  his  gaze,  but  met  it  coldly,  and,  gathering 
up  some  needlework,  moved  without  ostentation,  but 
deliberately,  out  of  the  room.  No  speech  could  have 
been  plainer,  and  Dane  grew  hot,  while  the  fingers  of 
one  hand  contracted  without  his  will. 

"You  don't  look  well,  Hilton,"  remarked  Thomas 
Chatterton.  "Is  your  head  troubling  you?" 

"No,"  said  Dane.  "I  must  have  walked  tolerably 
fast,  and  I  am  perhaps  a  trifle  shaky  yet.  With  Mrs. 
Chatterton's  permission  I  will  go  out  and  smoke  a 
cigar." 

He  passed  out,  and  the  iron-master  smiled  as  he 
looked  at  his  wife. 

"Can  you  tell  me  what  is  the  meaning  of  this?"  he 
asked. 

"Your  inquiry  is  indefinite;  and  why  do  you  ask 
me?" 

"Because  I  think  you  ought  to  know,"  Chatterton 
answered  dryly.  "Women  generally  have  a  finger  in  it 
whenever  there  is  trouble." 

"Even  if  true,  that  is  not  strikingly  original,"  Mrs. 
Chatterton  retorted.  "I  have  not  noticed  anything 
unusual." 

"Then  listen,"  and  Chatterton  pointed  toward  the 
window.  "When  a  young  man  goes  out  for  a  stroll  he 
does  not  usually  stamp  in  that  savage  fashion  upon  the 
gravel.  Now,  I  want  your  candid  opinion." 

"You  shall  have  it,"  said  the  lady,  smiling.     "I  be- 


THE  TRYST  AT  HALLOWS  BRIG       69 

lieve  that  no  good  ever  resulted  from  a  choleric  elderly 
gentleman's  interference  in  affairs  beyond  his  compre- 
hension." 

Meanwhile  Carsluith  Maxwell  stood  talking  to  his 
sister  in  the  hall  of  Culmeny. 

"After  what  has  happened,  the  sooner  I  get  out  on  my 
African  venture  the  more  pleasant  it  will  be  for  all  con- 
cerned," he  said  gloomily.  "  It  is  a  good  country  where 
one  can  forget  one's  troubles;  in  fact,  there  are  so  many 
peculiarly  its  own  that  I  don't  know  a  better." 

"Poor  Carsluith!  It  will  be  a  heavy  disappointment 
to  father.  He  is  failing  more  rapidly  than  I  care  to 
notice,  and  had  begun  to  lean  on  you.  I  don't  think  I 
can  forgive  her.  Yes;  go  out,  and  forget  her." 

"It  was  not  Miss  Chatterton's  fault,"  Maxwell  de- 
clared quickly.  "She  never,  to  use  the  inappropriate 
phrase,  encouraged  me.  It  was  my  own  folly  to  hope 
that  she  could  stoop  to  me." 

"  Without  any  wish  to  flatter  you,  I  consider  that  Miss 
Chatter  ton  might  have  stooped  a  good  deal  farther," 
said  Margaret  Maxwell.  "However,  we  need  not  go 
in  to  that;  and  I  am  only  sorry  you  are  so  hardly  hit.  I 
wonder  if  it  was  because  of  Dane?" 

"No,"  Maxwell  answered  with  decision.  "I  can't 
exactly  tell  you  why,  but  I  am  certain  it  was  not 
because  of  Dane." 

His  sister  said  nothing  further,  though  she  was  not 
convinced.  Her  heart  was  heavy  for  her  brother, 
because  she  knew  the  Maxwell  temperament,  and  that 
he  was  not  the  man  to  change. 

Carsluith  passed  out  into  the  darkness,  and  leaning 
against  a  fir,  spoke  half  aloud: 

"No  man  Miss  Chatterton  had  smiled  upon  could 


70   THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

scatter  his  affections  as  Dane  seems  to  have  done. 
Pshaw!    The  thing  is  perfectly  impossible!" 

This  was,  perhaps,  a  greater  tribute  to  the  speaker's 
loyalty  than  to  his  knowledge  of  human  nature,  though 
Carsluith  Maxwell  was  usually  accounted  a  shrewd 
man. 


CHAPTER  VI 

DANE'S  SILENCE 

IT  was  in  a  combative  humor  that  Hilton  Dane  pre- 
sented himself  in  court  on  the  day  of  the  poacher's 
trial.  It  was  impossible  to  ignore  the  summons,  which 
alone  had  delayed  his  departure  from  The  Larches; 
but  the  time  he  spent  there  waiting  had  passed  very 
uncomfortably.  Lilian  had,  so  far  as  she  could  do  so 
without  attracting  attention,  sedulously  avoided  his 
company;  and  he  fancied  that  both  Chatterton  and  his 
wife  regarded  him  with  suspicion.  Dane,  knowing  the 
iron-master's  opinions,  surmised  that  Chatterton  would 
not  have  blamed  him  had  he  frankly  related  all  that  had 
passed;  but  he  had  pledged  himself  to  secrecy,  and  it 
never  occurred  to  him  to  break  his  promise. 

Therefore  he  kept  his  own  counsel,  and  went  into 
court  prepared  for  battle,  further  fortified  by  a  contempt 
for  the  assumed  omnipotence  of  petty  local  magnates 
which  men  of  his  kind,  who  have  tasted  power  in  the 
vigorous  life  of  the  newer  lands,  acquire.  He  decided 
that  the  prisoner,  who  was  very  young,  looked  free  from 
inherent  vice,  and  worthy  of  a  chance  to  prove  himself, 
in  the  main,  honest.  He  was  not  absolutely  certain 
that  the  man  was  the  one  with  whom  he  had  grap- 
pled, and  he  gave  him  the  full  benefit  of  the  doubt. 
His  answers  provided  the  neighborhood  with  a  sensa- 
tional topic  for  conversation,  and,  while  there  were  some 
who  laughed  at  the  legal  functionaries'  discomfiture  and 

71 


frS      THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

the  witness's  nonchalance,  the  game  preservers  in  the 
vicinity  were  emphatic  in  their  indignation. 

In  any  case,  Dane  left  the  court  amid  the  plaudits  of 
the  assembled  quarrymen,  which  the  officials  could  not 
restrain.  He  hated  the  role  of  popular  hero  but  he 
felt  a  certain  grim  satisfaction,  though  he  guessed  that 
every  word  he  had  spoken  might  cost  him  dearly.  Also, 
because  he  did  nothing  by  halves,  he  sought  the  dis- 
charged prisoner. 

"I  don't  know  whether  you  are  the  right  man  or  not, 
and  I  don't  want  to,"  he  said  dryly.  "If  you  are  a 
wholly  worthless  rascal,  you  will  no  doubt  drift  back 
into  the  clutches  of  the  police,  when  it  is  probable  that 
the  worthy  gentlemen  I  addressed  to-day  will  see  that 
you  don't  get  out  again.  It  would  not  surprise  me  if 
they  starved  you  out  of  this  neighborhood;  so,  if  you 
desire  to  make  a  fresh  start,  you  will  take  this  letter  to 
the  English  waterworks  contractor  to  whom  it  is 
addressed — and  send  your  sister  as  much  as  possible  of 
what  he  pays  you." 

"Would  you  believe  that  I'm  sairly  sorry,  sir?" 
began  the  lad;  but  Dane  turned  upon  him  with  a  laugh 
and  a  frown. 

"Sorry  for  what?  Prove  it  by  turning  honest.  Do 
you  wish  to  convince  me  I  did  wrong  to-day?" 

The  poacher  departed  with  grateful  protestations, 
and  Dane  was  glad  that  he  had  vanished  before  Max- 
well came  up. 

"I  don't  know  whether  I  ought  to  congratulate  you 
on  your  forensic  abilities,  or  otherwise,  but  the  spec- 
tacle was  worth  the  journey,"  he  said.  "I  hardly 
suspected  that  you  possessed  such  talents;  but  why  you 
displayed  them  is,  of  course,  another  question." 


DANE'S  SILENCE  73 

"It  is  also  my  particular  business,"  Dane  replied 
stiffly,  and  frowned  when  Maxwell  smiled  significantly. 

"Confound  you!  Do  you  think "  he  broke  out; 

and  Maxwell  smiled  again  in  ironical  fashion  as  he 
moved  away. 

"I  might  make  use  of  your  own  rejoinder,  and  say 
that  I  generally  find  it  saves  trouble  to  keep  my  opin- 
ions to  myself,"  he  returned.  "However,  since  you 
asked  me,  what  would  any  person  of  the  most  modest 
discernment  think?" 

Dane  groaned  inwardly  as  he  climbed  into  the  waiting 
vehicle,  for  the  last  speech  placed  beyond  all  doubt  the 
fact  that  the  occupants  of  the  dog-cart  had  recognized 
him  at  Hallows  Brig;  and  he  knew  that  Lilian  Chatter- 
ton  held  somewhat  puritanical  views.  He  had,  it  was 
evident,  involved  himself  hopelessly. 

That  very  evening,  just  as  Dane  had  finished  packing 
his  few  possessions,  an  irate  game-preserving  gentleman 
drove  over  to  The  Larches  to  express  his  indignation. 

"I  would  not  like  to  hurt  your  feelings,  Chatter  ton, 
but  your  young  friend  did  not  give  wholly  unbiased 
testimony  to-day,"  he  said.  "Considering  his  evident 
desire  to  shield  the  prisoner,  I  e'en  felt  it  my  duty 
to " 

He  got  no  farther,  for  the  choleric  iron-master  was 
equally  loyal  to  those  he  honored  with  his  good  opinion, 
and  prompt  on  any  challenge  to  take  up  the  cudgels. 

"If  that  is  all  you  called  to  tell  me,  you  might  have 
spared  yourself  the  trouble,  Black,"  he  interrupted. 
"I  have  known  Hilton  Dane  from  boyhood,  as  I 
knew  his  father  before  him;  and  I  haven't  the  slight- 
est objection  to  hurting  the  feelings  of  any  man  who 
impugns  the  honesty  of  my  friends." 


74   THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

"I'm  thinking  ye  are  very  generous,"  replied  Black, 
relapsing  into  his  native  idiom.  "Man,  do  not  be  so 
testy,  but  bide  and  listen.  He  described  his  adversary 
so  well  that  the  police  at  once  identified  and  arrested  him; 
but  he  appeared  troubled  with  a  distressfully  bad  memory 
in  court  to-day. 

"  'What  are  ye  meaning  by  the  words,  "A  man  like  the 
prisoner"?7  the  fiscal  asked  him;  and  Mr.  Dane  answers: 
1  Just  what  I  say.' 

" '  Can  you  not  swear  to  him? '  asked  the  fiscal  severely; 
and  your  young  friend  smiled.  '  Could  you  swear  to  the 
complexion  and  color  of  the  eyes  of  any  man  who,  on  a 
dark  night,  had  just  kicked  you  hard  upon  the  knee?' 
says  he. 

"It  was  not  even  respectful;  and  when  the 
rabble  cheered  there  was  more  than  me  who  agreed  with 
the  fiscal:  'This  place  is  a  court  of  justice — or  it  ought  to 
be/  said  he." 

Black,  pausing,  betrayed  his  indignation  with  a  gesture, 
while  Chatterton  laughed  in  aggressive  fashion. 

"Considering  my  worthy  neighbors'  prejudices,  I 
think  there  was  something  in  that  last  remark,"  he  said. 

Just  then  Lilian,  who  may  have  overheard  part  of  the 
colloquy,  appeared  in  an  opening  in  the  tall  hedge. 

"Did  you  convict  the  malefactor,  Mr.  Black?"  she 
asked. 

"No,"  said  that  gentleman  ruefully.  "Unfortunately 
we  did  not,  although  I'm  thinking  that  we  did  our 
best." 

Lilian  smiled  a  little,  and  Chatterton 's  eyes  twinkled 
as  he  glanced  at  her  encouragingly. 

"Was  that  quite  in  accordance  with  the  spirit  of  our 
glorious  constitution?"  she  asked. 


DANE'S  SILENCE  75 

"Eh?"  said  Black  sharply.  "What's  this  I'm  saying; 
and  I  see  ye  are  laughing  at  me.  I  mean  his  guilt  was 
manifest,  but  a  friend  of  yours  showed  considerable 
audacity,  forby  a  trace  of  talent,  in  his  efforts  to  release 
him.  Ye  will  mind  that  it's  a  principle  of  British  justice 
to  give  even  a  poacher  fair  play,  my  dear  young  lady." 

"So  I  was  always  taught,"  Lilian  replied  artlessly. 

Thomas  Chatterton  chuckled  again,  and  pointed  to- 
ward a  man  who,  in  turn,  passed  through  the  opening 
in  the  hedge. 

"I  fancy  that  Mr.  Black  is  anxious  to  talk  to  you, 
Hilton,"  he  said. 

Black,  however,  had  evidently  found  two  adversaries 
sufficient  without  engaging  a  third,  and,  as  sometimes 
happens,  he  did  not  recollect  the  crushing  things  he 
might  have  said  until  the  opportunity  had  passed; 
so,  after  a  stiff  greeting,  he  allowed  Chatterton,  who 
was  rarely  ungenerous  to  a  beaten  enemy,  to  lead  him 
away. 

Lilian  had  disappeared,  but  not  before  the  manner  in 
which  she  had  ignored  Dane  had  roused  him  to  precipi- 
tate action.  He  forgot  his  prudence  in  a  sudden  fit  of 
anger,  and,  remembering  only  that  he  might  never  have 
another  opportunity  for  speech  with  her,  he  followed  the 
girl.  Miss  Chatterton,  however,  had  a  fair  start,  and, 
perhaps  being  warned  by  the  sound  of  his  hurried  foot- 
steps, made  the  most  of  it;  so  that  while  Dane  pursued 
her  down  two  avenues,  and  through  a  shrubbery,  the 
situation  grew  rapidly  ludicrous.  The  humor  of  it  did 
not  strike  him  then,  and  he  saw  only  the  flicker  of  a  white 
dress  receding  before  him.  Finally  he  came  upon  the 
fugitive  in  a  narrow  path  between  rows  of  choice  chrys- 
anthemums, where,  as  there  was  no  room  for  two  to  pass, 


76   THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

Lilian  turned  upon  him  with  an  ominous  light  in  her  eyes. 
It  was  evident  that  Miss  Chatterton  was  seriously  angry, 
as  well  as  a  little  breathless. 

"What  brings  you  here?"  she  demanded. 

Dane  was  not,  as  a  rule,  readily  disconcerted;  but  for 
a  moment  the  power  of  lucid  speech  deserted  him 

"I  came—     "  he  gasped. 

"That  is  unfortunately  evident,"  retorted  Lilian, 
chillingly.  "What  I  desire  to  know  is  why,  considering 
the  size  of  the  garden,  you  must,  after  seeing  I  wished  to 
be  alone,  choose  this  particular  path !" 

Dane  had  slight  cause  for  merriment,  but  he  actually 
laughed. 

"Any  other  place  would  have  suited  me,  but  you  went 
so  fast!" 

This  was  a  blunder,  and  he  realized  it  as  he  heard  the 
gravel  crunch  in  a  manner  that  suggested  the  pressure 
of  somebody's  heel.  Lilian  had  clearly  roused  herself 
to  face  the  situation. 

"Admitting  that  it  was  so,  will  you  explain  why  you 
cannot  take  a  hint?" 

"I  will,"  Dane  said  quietly,  though  he  was  once  more 
maladroit.  "I  wished  to  ask  why  you  have  avoided  me 
like  contagion  lately?" 

"Is  that  a  necessary  question,  or  is  it  generous  to  place 
the  onus  of  such  an  explanation  upon  me?" 

"Perhaps  not,"  he  admitted.  "I  am  not  so  quick  of 
wit  as  I  could  wish,  to-day,  but  I  am  going  away  early 
to-morrow,  and  it  may  be  very  long  before  I  see  you  again; 
so  I  could  not  help  asking  it.  We  have  known  each  other 
a  long  time,  Lily,  and  I  would  not  care  to  leave  England 
feeling  that  you  were  displeased  with  me." 

"  Have  I  told  you  that  I  was  displeased?"  asked  the  girl. 


DANE'S  SILENCE  77 

"Speech  was  hardly  necessary." 

Lilian  Chatterton  was  not  deficient  in  courage,  and 
she  no  longer  tried  to  evade  the  difficulty.  "  Please 
understand  that  I  have  neither  the  right  nor  the  desire 
to  inquire  into  your  motives,  but — since  you  insist — 
there  are  limits  within  which  one  must  restrict  one's 
friendship;  and  after  comparing  your  own  account  of 
your  nocturnal  adventures  with  what  I  heard  Mr.  Black 
relate  about  your  conduct  in  court  to-day,  it  is  hardly 
possible  to  avoid  concluding  that  you  have  overstepped 
them." 

"There  may  be  an  explanation.  Is  it  fair,  as  you 
reminded  that  very  gentleman,  to  condemn  any  one 
unheard?" 

"  Can  you  furnish  one?"  asked  Lilian,  with  a  quickness 
which  was  not  wholly  lost  upon  her  companion.  If  he 
had  spoken  plainly,  it  is  possible  that  the  explanation 
might  have  changed  a  good  deal  for  both  of  them;  but 
that  was  just  what  the  man  had  pledged  himself  not  to  do. 
He  was  not  a  casuist,  and,  having  no  time  for  reflection, 
saw  only  one  course  open  to  him.  It  was  too  late  when 
he  realized  that  it  was  the  worst  one  possible  from  any 
point  of  view. 

"I  am  afraid  I  cannot,  at  present,"  he  said. 

The  girl's  eyes  grew  almost  wicked,  for  his  hesitation 
was  fatal,  and  she  was  angry  that  she  had  even  allowed 
him  to  draw  her  into  the  discussion. 

"That  is  comprehensible,"  she  said.  "You  must 
already  have  taxed  your  imagination  severely,  and  it  is 
perhaps  natural  that  the  testimony  of  a  quite  disinterested 
gentleman  should  be  more  convincing.  Besides,  as  I 
said  already,  it  is  certainly  not  my  part  to  judge  you." 

"Then  I  can  only  hope  that  you  will  hear  the  full 


78   THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

truth  from  some  other  person  you  consider  more  worthy 
of  credit,"  Dane  said  somberly. 

Miss  Chatterton  returned  no  answer,  but,  drawing 
her  skirt  to  her  side,  brushed  past  the  man,  who  stepped 
recklessly  among  the  chrysanthemums.  She  had,  of 
course,  no  intention  of  looking  back  in  his  direction,  but, 
on  turning  at  the  end  of  the  alley,  it  was  almost  necessary 
to  do  so,  and  she  sometimes  remembered,  with  both  a 
smile  and  a  sigh,  how  he  had  stood,  a  somewhat  com- 
manding, as  well  as  a  slightly  ludicrous  figure,  staring 
straight  before  him,  knee-deep  among  the  chrysanthe- 
mums. That,  however,  was  afterward,  for  then  Lilian 
was  in  a  royal  rage  with  herself  as  well  as  the  man,  be- 
cause she  had  allowed  anything  he  could  say  or  do  to 
disturb  her  serenity. 

Dane  sighed  a  little,  but  there  was  resolution  as  well 
as  indignation  in  his  face  as  he  moved  away,  and  left  the 
gardener,  who  had  witnessed  the  scene  with  indignation, 
to  assess  the  damage. 

"  Would  nothing  fit  yon  theatrical  ijiot  but  stamping 
my  new  quilled  Regents  flat?"  the  gardener  grumbled. 

Early  the  next  morning  Chatterton  and  Dane 
stood  waiting  for  the  South  express  in  the  little  country 
station. 

"I  don't  altogether  understand  what  you  have  been 
doing,  Hilton,  and,  though  nobody  seems  quite  pleased 
with  you,  I  won't  ask,"  said  the  iron-master.  "I  know 
you  had  a  good  reason  for  it,  whatever  it  was;  and  if  that 
meddlesome  Black  or  any  of  his  friends  feel  inclined  to 
make  further  unpleasant  suggestions,  I  shall  enjoy  the 
opportunity  for  a  little  plain  speaking.  If  you  ever 
change  your  mind,  remember  what  I  said;  and  don't 
close  with  any  offer  unless  it's  tempting,  but  come  back 


DANE'S  SILENCE  79 

and  wait  at  The  Larches  for  a  better.  I  can't  help 
saying  I'm  sorry  you  did  not  altogether  hit  it  with  Lilian. 
Modern  young  women,  however,  often  appear  to  con- 
sider cheap  smartness  more  becoming  than  the  genuine 
cordiality  they  may  feel." 

"It  was  not  Miss  Chatterton's  fault,  sir,"  declared 
Dane,  who,  growing  slightly  confused,  wished  the  iron- 
master would  favor  anything  else  with  his  fixed  attention. 
He  was  thankful  that  the  approach  of  the  express  pre- 
vented the  conversation  from  progressing  further  in  that 
direction. 

A  few  evenings  later,  Lilian  dismounted  from  her  pony 
in  the  shadow  of  a  copse.  For  some  reason  she  had  been 
restless  all  day,  and  sought  solace  in  a  ride  across  the 
moor.  The  saddle  had  slipped  a  little,  and  she  spent 
some  time  tightening  the  girth.  Meanwhile  two  men 
came  to  a  standstill  in  the  stubble  beyond  the  hedge,  and 
she  recognized  Carsluith  Maxwell  in  one  spare  figure. 
The  sunset  beat  into  his  face,  and  she  saw  it  was  stamped 
with  a  curious  melancholy  as  he  looked  down  the  deep- 
wooded  valley  toward  Culmeny.  Ridges  of  brown  moor- 
land, whose  slopes  were  streaked  by  dark  firs,  hemmed 
the  hollow  in,  and  the  tower  rose  blackly  in  the  mouth  of 
it  against  the  shimmer  of  the  sea. 

"It  is  an  inheritance  to  be  proud  of,  sir,"  Carsluith 
said.  "Perhaps  it  is  because  of  the  contrast  with  the 
rank  luxuriance  of  the  tropics,  and  their  stifling  heat, 
but  each  time  I  come  home  to  the  old  place  and  breathe 
this  keen  sweet  air,  I  feel  that  I  love  it  better." 

The  second  man,  turning,  laid  his  hand  on  the  speaker's 
shoulder,  and  as  he  did  so  Lilian  recognized  the  master 
of  Culmeny. 

"It  will  be  yours  some  day  which  cannot  be  very 


80   THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

distant  now,"  the  elder  man  replied.  "It  is  a  barren 
heritage,  and  I  have  long  regretted  that,  after  the  girls 
are  provided  for,  its  revenues  will  do  little  more  than 
cover  the  interest  on  the  burden  you  must  take  up  along 
with  it." 

"I  hope  that  day  will  be  long  in  coming,  sir;  and  I 
shall  never  rest  contented  until  by  some  means  I  win 
enough  to  restore  our  former  prosperity.  To-morrow 
will  see  me  on  my  way  to  London,  and  we  must  hope 
that  my  latest  venture  will  prove  successful!" 

Lilian  could  not  escape  without  attracting  attention, 
and  she  was  so  close  to  the  two  men  that  she  heard 
Brandram  Maxwell  sigh. 

"I  do  not  approve  of  it,  but  know  I  cannot  dissuade 
you,"  he  said,  with  a  certain  pride  as  well  as  wistfulness 
in  the  glance  he  cast  upon  his  son.  "I  had  hoped  you 
might  have  settled  here — and  think  she  is  good  as  well 
as  bonny — but  that  was  not  to  be.  Prosperity!  The 
old  place  was  aye  needy,  and  its  plenishing  has  cost 
the  life  of  many  of  those  who  have  gone  before  you. 
You  will  mind  Andrew's  answer  when  he  fell  out  dying 
in  the  retreat  from  Derby :  'I  Jm  not  caring  greatly  where 
I  lie/  said  he.  'Our  kirkyard  is  not  contracted.  It 
runs  from  the  Low  Countries  to  the  sands  of  Cree.' 
Maybe  it's  your  destiny,  but  you  will  not  forget  that  an 
old  man  is  longing  for  the  sight  of  you,  longing  the  more 
because " 

He  ceased  abruptly,  and  Lilian  noticed  that  Carsluith 
Maxwell  made  the  slightest  gesture  of  negation,  while 
his  face  darkened  a  little.  She  recalled  an  old  supersti- 
tious tale. 

"We  have  outgrown  belief  in  those  fables,  sir,"  he 
declared, 


DANE'S  SILENCE  81 

The  ruler  of  Culmeny  made  no  direct  answer. 

"The  old  tale  is  told  over  often,  and  the  end  is  the 
same.  God  keep  you,  and  bring  you  safe  home  from  that 
dark  land,"  he  said  solemnly. 

Here  the  pair  forestalled  the  unwilling  spectator's 
intention  by  moving  away,  and  left  her  troubled.  She 
had  done  no  thing  to  raise  false  hopes  in  Carsluith  Maxwell, 
and  in  that  respect  her  conscience  was  clear;  but  there 
had  been  a  strange  somberness  in  both  men's  faces,  and 
she  felt  that  she  was  mainly  responsible  for  sending  the 
younger  one  to  Africa.  He  was  of  good  family  and 
accomplished,  and  she  wondered  why,  when  many 
another  damsel  would  have  gladly  listened,  she  had  so 
promptly  declined  him  as  a  suitor.  Then,  even  as  she 
reflected  that  there  was  no  one  else  she  preferred  to  him, 
a  tinge  of  color  crept  into  her  face,  and,  dismissing  the 
subject,  she  mounted,  and  sent  the  pony  at  a  gallop  across 
the  next  meadow. 


It  was  a  depressing  afternoon  when  Carsluith  Maxwell 
found  Dane  lounging  in  the  smoking-room  of  a  London 
hotel.  The  air  outside  was  foul  with  smoke  and  fog; 
and  it  was  little  more  cheerful  within.  Dane  was  in 
distinctly  low  spirits.  He  had  spent  a  fortnight  haunt- 
ing the  offices  of  engineering  firms,  financiers,  and  com- 
pany promoters,  and  had  discovered  once  more  that 
anybody  willing  to  take  up  his  invention  would  require 
the  lion's  share  of  the  contingent  profit.  He  could  hear 
of  no  remunerative  professional  engagement;  and  the 
contractors  who  had  promised  him  the  foreign  commis- 
sion stated  that  the  work  would  not  be  begun  for  some 
time. 


82   THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

"You  do  not  look  exactly  pleased  with  either  the 
world  or  yourself,"  observed  Maxwell. 

"I  certainly  don't  feel  so,"  Dane  said  shortly.  "Sev- 
eral things  have  gone  wrong  with  me  lately,  and  I'm 
even  more  troubled  than  usual  by  a  chronic  shortness  of 
capital.  I  want  ten  thousand  pounds  rather  more  badly 
than  most  folks  do,  and  no  mental  effort  will  show  me 
where  to  raise  more  than  five." 

Maxwell  looked  hard  at  the  speaker. 

"If  you  are  willing  to  risk  a  good  deal  on  a  chance  of 
obtaining  the  money,  I  think  I  can  show  you  a  way." 

Dane  laughed  harshly. 

"There  is  no  risk  you  could  mention  which,  for  the 
sake  of  five  thousand  pounds,  I  would  not  run." 

"If  you  join  me  you  will  run  a  good  many,"  said  Max- 
well. "There  were  reasons  why  I  could  not  make  the 
offer  until  to-day.  Give  me  about  ten  minutes  to  ex- 
plain the  venture." 

Dane  drew  in  a  deep  breath  when  his  companion 
concluded;  then  held  out  a  big  hand. 

"It  is  a  bargain,"  he  said  simply.  "Half  the  profit, 
half  the  expense  and  peril.  I  can  start  any  time  after 
to-morrow." 

They  shook  hands  on  it,  while  the  blue  cigar  smoke 
curled  about  them;  and  the  bargain  they  made  was  kept 
faithfully  in  the  face  of  manifold  perils,  and  in  spirit  as 
well  as  in  letter.  Long  afterward,  Dane  remembered 
that  Maxwell's  smile  was  much  the  same  when,  clench- 
ing the  hot  rifle  barrels,  they  watched  the  flintlocks  flash- 
ing through  thicker  wreaths  of  a  more  deadly  vapor. 

All  arrangements  had  been  made  when  Maxwell  de- 
parted; and  Dane  sat  down  to  write  Chatterton  a  letter. 
When  that  gentleman  received  it,  he  first  used  expressions 


DANE'S  SILENCE  83 

which  should  have  cost  him  five  shillings,  and  then, 
seeking  his  wife,  thrust  it  down  before  her  with  quite 
unnecessary  violence. 

"The  man  has  taken  leave  of  his  senses!"  he  exclaimed. 
"Read  that,  and  tell  me  if  you  don't  think  so." 

"Is  this  the  beginning  of  another  ancient-right  cru- 
sade, or  the  effect  of  the  lobster  salad?  You  will  re- 
member that  I  warned  you,"  said  Mrs.  Chatterton. 

"This  is  not  a  time  to  indulge  in  puerile  levity!  It  is 
that — that  confounded  idiot,  Hilton!  He  and  the  other 
madman,  Maxwell,  have  gone  out  to  look  for  gold  mines 
in  one  of  the  deadliest  holes  in  Africa.  He  says  he  wanted 
five  thousand  pounds,  and,  when  he  knows  it  was  his 
duty,  could  not  come  to  me!" 

Mrs.  Chatterton  read  the  letter,  and  then  tried  to 
flash  a  warning  at  her  husband  before  she  glanced  in 
her  niece's  direction.  Lilian  who  had  leaned  forward 
as  though  listening  intently,  sank  back  into  her  chair. 

"Perhaps  they  may  find  the  gold  mine;  and  Carsluith 
Maxwell  is  by  no  means  an  idiot,"  she  said.  "Indeed, 
he  always  struck  me  as  a  shrewd,  determined  man." 

"  Determined  enough,"  fumed  her  husband.  "  They  're 
all  made  that  way.  Maxwell  rebuilt  his  iniquitous 
obstruction  four  times  after  I  tore  it  up;  but  there's 
something  in  Carsluith's  dark  face  I  don't  care  to  see. 
I  've  seen  the  sign  on  other  men,  and  it  implies  a  tragedy. 
Besides,  from  what  Black  told  me,  they're  an  unlucky 
family,  with  an  hereditary  weakness  for  dying  fully 
dressed.  Any  mad  venture  they  could  get  themselves 
decently  killed  in  seems  to  have  been  irresistible  to  those 
men  of  Culmeny.  I  'd  have  given  three  times  the  money 
to  prevent  Carsluith  from  decoying  poor  Hilton.  Do 
the  fools  fancy  nuggets  grow  on  palm  trees?" 


84   THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

Chatterton,  receiving  no  answer,  retired  to  what  he 
called  his  study,  where  they  heard  him  banging  books 
about.  Lilian  sat  silent  with  hands  crossed  in  her  lap. 
She,  also,  she  fancied,  had  seen  the  shadow  in  Carsluith 
Maxwell's  face,  and  she  felt  both  troubled  and  anxious 
about  him  and  about  somebody  else. 

A  week  later  Mrs.  Chatterton,  entering  her  niece's 

room  in  search  of  some  trifle,  came  upon  a  book  the  girl 

had  been  reading.    She  looked  thoughtful  when  she  saw 

that  the  volume  treated  of  travels  in  West  Africa,  and 

hat  the  marker  in  it  rested  between  the  last  pages. 


CHAPTER  VII 

A  WARNING 

IT  was  a  bright  morning  when  the  s.s.  Manyamba 
rolled  south  into  sight  of  the  Canaries  over  a  white- 
flecked  sea.  They  rose  rather  like  dim  blue  clouds  than 
islands  athwart  the  far  horizon,  with  one  glistening 
cone  cut  off  by  silver  mists  from  the  ocean  plain 
beneath,  towering  high  above  the  loftiest.  Maxwell 
leaned  over  the  poop  rails,  while  Dane,  the  middle-aged 
purser,  and  Miss  Bonita  Castro  stood  near  by.  The 
lady's  father,  a  little,  olive-faced  Portuguese,  with 
shifty  black  eyes,  lounged  in  a  deck  chair  watching  them 
languidly.  There  were  few  passengers  on  board,  and 
the  members  of  the  group,  who  had  made  friends 
somewhat  rapidly,  were  now  amusing  themselves  by 
shooting  at  the  bottles  a  steward  forward  flung  into  the 
sea. 

A  big  pistol  flashed  in  Miss  Castro's  hand.  The 
purser  clutched  at  a  stanchion  and  uttered  a  quick 
exclamation;  Maxwell  wheeled  round  suddenly.  A 
bottle,  ceasing  its  gyrations,  sank  into  the  white  wash  of 
the  screw,  and  the  lady  laughed  as  she  lowered  the 
pistol  muzzle. 

"Tresl"  she  cried  exultantly.  "That  is  three  to 
me!  Carramba!  I  have  also  it  seem,  as  you  say, 
nearly  bag  the  Seiior  Maxwell." 

If  Dom  Pedro  Castro  was  a  typical  Portuguese,  his 
wife  had  been  an  Andalusian,  and  his  daughter,  while 

85 


86   THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

speaking  several  languages  rather  prettily  than  well, 
preferred  her  mother's  tongue,  and  had  inherited  a  full 
share  of  the  voluptuous  beauty  of  a  race  whose  women 
are  famous  in  Spain.  She  formed  an  interesting  picture 
as  she  stood  with  the  blue  of  the  sea  behind  her,  laughter 
in  her  dark  eyes,  and  the  pistol  still  smoking  in  her  hand. 
They  were  remarkably  attractive  eyes;  and  Maxwell, 
knowing  what  to  look  for,  saw  more  than  Dane  had 
apparently  seen  in  their  depths,  and  decided  to  warn  his 
comrade  to  beware  of  them.  A  faint  carmine  warmth 
emphasized  the  comeliness  of  the  slightly  dusky 
face,  while  graceful  pose  and  figure  were  both  charac- 
teristic of  a  woman  of  her  extraction  as  yet  well  short 
of  the  age  at  which  Southern  beauty  changes  into 
grossness. 

"You  have  not  the  fright,  Sefior  Maxwell,  though  a 
little  nearer  and  we  leave  you  behind?"  she  added 
naively. 

Maxwell  did  not  look  frightened,  though  he  might 
well  have  been,  for  the  bullet  had  passed  him  close. 
He  answered  with  a  smile  which,  as  Dane  had  noticed 
before,  appeared  to  linger  on  his  lips  after  the  gravity 
had  returned  to  his  eyes. 

"  No,  senorita.  If  a  man  could  choose  his  last  resting- 
place,  wouldn't  this  blue  water  be  much  nicer  than  a 
mangrove  swamp  in  Africa.  That  very  little,  however, 
makes  a  vast  difference;  and  you  have  won  the  gloves. 
You  shall  have  the  best  in  Las  Palmas  to-night.  You 
will  land  us  by  sunset,  Mr.  Purser?" 

"Yes."  The  Purser  sighed  with  relief  when  he  saw 
that  the  contest  was  over.  "Hadn't  you  better  give 
me  that  pistol ,  senorita?  Accidents  happen  when  one 
least  expects  them,  and  the  Company  would  hold  me 


A  WARNING  87 

responsible  if  you  killed  anybody.  I  don't  think  the 
skipper  would  see  quite  as  much  humor  in  the  position 
as  you  seem  to." 

Bonita  laughed  with  the  light-heartedness  of  a 
child,  and  glanced  demurely  at  Dane. 

"To  kill  the  Senor  Maxwell,  or  my  good  friend 
Don  II ton,  is  catastrophe;  but  to  kill  a  bad  man,  it 
is  nothing.  Many  men  are  killed  in  Africa;  I  myself 
shoot  one.  There  was  in  him  the  blood  of  the 
negro,  and  he  forget  it  when  without  respect  he  speak  to 
me." 

Dane  was  a  trifle  staggered  by  the  matter-of-fact 
manner  in  which  Miss  Castro  mentioned  the  way  she 
had  disposed  of  one  whom  he  surmised  had  been  too 
venturesome  a  suitor. 

"Verdad!"  exclaimed  Dom  Pedro.  "The  man,  by 
bad  fortune,  he  is  not  die,  and  that  affair  is  cost  me 
much  commercio.  My  daughter  she  has,  in  your 
English,  the  spirited  way." 

The  lady's  face  changed  suddenly  as  she  turned 
toward  Maxwell. 

"I  beat  you,  Senor,  but  it  is  because  you  are  muy 
caballero,  and  prefer  the  defeat  from  me.  You  have 
the  steady  hand  and  the  dangerous  eye,  and  have  not 
the  fear.  That  is  well  if  you  go  up  into  the  forest  in 
my  country.  It  is  different  with  your  friend.  The 
pistol  is  not  for  him.  No,  he  remind  me  of  those  big 
fair  men  with  the  axes  I  read  of  in  England.  I  make 
you  my  compliments,  Don  II ton,  and  you  show  me 
where  the  swift  Bonita  he  leap  at  the  bow." 

Whether,  because  Miss  Castro  was  fond  of  admira- 
tion, this  was  done  out  of  pique  at  Maxwell's  indiffer- 
ence to  her  attractions,  Dane  naturally  did  not  know, 


88   THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

but  he  answered  with  a  bow,  and  the  two  strolled  for- 
ward together.  There  were  no  porpoises  circling,  as 
they  often  will,  athwart  the  stem,  but  the  lady  who 
perched  herself  upon  a  knighthead  seemed  in  no  way 
disappointed.  The  sun  made  rainbows  in  the  spray 
which  whirled  beneath  her,  as  each  blue  ridge  fell  back 
shattered  from  the  shearing  bows;  and  nowhere  else 
could  one  realize  so  well  the  swift  passage  of  the  quiver- 
ing hull  through  the  white-topped  seas,  or  feel  the  same 
cradle-like  rise  and  fall  of  the  warm  deck  planking. 

"All  this,"  remarked  Miss  Castro,  "is  very  nice;  and 
the  Sefior  Maxwell,  who  is  muy  caballero,  but  somber 
sometimes,  he  is  not  here.  You  have  my  permission 
to  sit  there,  and  I  will  talk  to  you." 

Dane  afterward  wondered  why,  in  place  of  doing  so, 
she  led  him  on  to  talk  about  his  comrade;  but  it  was 
perhaps  not  unnatural  that  he  should  find  a  certain 
degree  of  pleasure  in  the  society  of  his  comely  and 
versatile  companion.  He  knew  little  of  Miss  Castro 
beyond  what  the  purser  had  told  him,  and  that  Maxwell 
had  met  her  elsewhere;  but  he  was  to  learn  more  in  due 
time.  She  had  been  educated  in  some  Spanish  convent; 
but,  being  born  on  the  fever  coast,  could  withstand 
the  climate,  and  she  spent  part  of  her  time  there  in  her 
father's  factory,  and  the  rest  with  her  mother's  sister 
in  the  Canaries.  Dom  Pedro  was  assumed  to  be  a 
tolerably  prosperous  trader. 

An  hour  had  passed  before  the  two  came  aft  together, 
and  on  the  next  opportunity  Maxwell  took  his  friend 
to  task. 

"It  is  perhaps  time  for  me  to  warn  you  about  playing 
with  fire,  Hilton,"  he  said.  "Miss  Castro  is  certainly 
pretty,  but  her  people  don't  understand  the  game  of 


A  WARNING  89 

flirtation  as  played  in  England.  In  all  emotional 
questions  they're  unpleasantly  in  earnest.  I  may 
remind  you  that  I  met  the  senorita  in  Africa." 

"I  have  not  so  far  obtruded  my  advice  on  you," 
Dane  returned.  "Don't  you  think  this " 

"Is  an  impertinence?"  and  Maxwell  smiled.  "Per- 
fectly. I  also  admit  that  the  r61e  of  mentor  does  not 
become  me.  Nevertheless,  when  Miss  Castro  casually 
mentioned  how  she  got  rid  of  her  last  suitor,  there  was 
something  in  her  eyes  which  might  have  warned  an 
observer.  You  needn't  trouble  about  a  neat  rejoinder, 
because  I'll  retire,  having  done  my  duty." 

"I  mean  to  call  upon  Miss  Castro  at  the  Catalina 
to-morrow.  Your  warning,  however,  is  superfluous, 
as  it  will  be  the  last  time  I  shall  see  her.  She  is  remain- 
ing here." 

There  was  a  trace  of  mischief  in  Maxwell's  smile  as 
he  answered. 

"I  am  going  with  you.  You  need  not  express 
astonishment.  She  invited  me." 

It  was  a  sunny  afternoon  when  they  went  ashore 
together;  but  they  did  not  find  Miss  Castro  immediately 
at  her  hotel.  It  appeared  that  the  British  tourists  and 
invalids  who  sojourned  in  the  dusty  Spanish  city  had 
joined  hands  with  its  leading  inhabitants  over  the 
organization  of  a  gala  for  the  benefit  of  local  institu- 
tions, and  Miss  Castro  was  playing  the  part  of  sooth- 
sayer in  the  cause  of  charity. 

Dane  found  it  pleasant,  in  spite  of  the  dust,  to  watch 
the  white  mists  sliding  athwart  the  great  volcanic 
peaks,  and  the  silvery  spray  toss  beneath  the  white- 
walled  city.  The  assembly  also  was  interesting.  Gaily 
uniformed  Castilian  officer,  and  British  tourist  fantas- 


90   THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

tically  attired,  jostled  each  other.  Dark-skinned, 
black-haired  beauties — pleasant  to  look  upon  even 
when  they  wore  Parisian  headgear  instead  of  the 
national  mantilla — in  filmy  draperies,  flitted  in  and  out 
among  young  Englishwomen,  whose  indifferent  faces 
and  attire  emphasized  the  contrast  between  their 
respective  characters;  while  here  and  there  a  matron  of 
their  own  nation  stood  surveying  the  scene  with  the 
pitying  contempt  for  everything  foreign  which  too  many 
insular  Britons  consider  impresses  the  benighted  alien. 
Good  music  mingled  with  the  merry  voices,  swish  of 
diaphanous  dresses,  clank  of  sabers,  and  patter  of  feet, 
and  through  all  rang  the  monotone  of  the  sea. 

"Look  at  it  well,"  said  Maxwell.  "It  is  the  last 
glimpse  of  civilization  you  will  get  for  many  a  day. 
Henceforward  our  path  leads  us  into  a  land  of  eternal 
shadow  haunted  by  all  things  evil;  at  least,  and  they 
have  some  reason,  so  the  negroes  say.  There's  the 
seiiorita,  telling  fortunes  in  that  striped  tent.  It  is 
curious  that  she  is  beckoning — me." 

Maxwell  pushed  his  way  through  the  throng  sur- 
rounding a  gaudy  pavilion,  where  Miss  Castro  was 
evidently  doing  excellent  business;  and  presently  he 
returned,  smiling  curiously. 

"She  wishes  to  tell  your  fortune.  Go  in  and  spend  a 
crown  in  the  cause  of  charity.  I  can't  say  that  mine 
was  a  very  good  one,  but  the  senorita  showed  an 
accuracy  which  was,  under  the  circumstances,  sur- 
prising." 

Dane  made  his  way  with  difficulty  into  the  tent,  and 
when  his  eyes  grew  used  to  the  change  from  brilliant 
sunshine  to  shadow,  he  realized  one  reason  for  Miss 
Castro's  success.  She  wore  the  dress  of  the  Andaluces, 


A  WARNING  91 

thin,  lace-like  draperies  of  black,  sufficiently  short  to 
reveal  the  tiny  high-arched  feet  in  dainty  Moorish 
slippers.  A  gauzy  black  mantilla  and  a  crimson  rose 
adorned  her  hair,  while  the  graces  of  her  figure  were 
emphasized  by  a  broad  zone  of  African  gold,  chased 
with  zodiacal  characters  by  sable  craftsmen.  The 
costume  suited  her;  and  Miss  Castro  was  probably 
aware  of  the  fact. 

"So  you  will  learn  a  little  of  the  future,  Don  Ilton?" 
she  said,  with  unusual  gravity.  "No,  you  must  not 
smile.  This  is  not  the  charlatan's  trickery.  The 
ancient  Moors  they  teach  us  wisdom,  and  I  have 
study.  So,  we  throw  there  the  crown,  and  I  lay  this 
Aggri  in  your  palm.  The  Aggri  has  virtue,  though 
what  it  is  no  man  know." 

She  detached  from  her  bracelet  an  insignificant  bead, 
one  of  the  mysterious  Aggri  which  cannot  be  counter- 
feited, and,  as  Dane  afterward  learned,  can  hardly  be 
bought  with  money  in  West  Africa. 

"It  is  a  big,  hard  hand,  and  has  done  much  work, 
perhaps  with  the  shovel,  in  a  hot  country — I  think  the 
Sud  America,"  she  said.  "It  will  also  hold  the  rifle. 
It  is  well  to  hold  the  rifle  straight  in  Africa." 

Miss  Castro  had  splendid  eyes,  of  a  kind  that  it  is 
not  wise  for  a  susceptible  man  to  gaze  into  too  steadily 
while  his  hand  is  held  in  very  pretty  fingers;  and  Dane 
felt  it  incumbent  on  him  to  break  the  spell. 

"This  is  not  all  divination,  senorita.  I  told  you  I 
was  going  inland  from  the  African  coast;  though  I 
certainly  did  not  tell  you  I  had  been  in  South  America. 
Did  you  guess  it  by  my  darkened  skin?" 

"It  is  not  the  trickery,"  repeated  Miss  Castro.  "I 
tell  you  only  the  things  I  know.  There  is  blood  on 


92   THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

your  path  through  the  forest — blood,  and  a  shadow 
that  follows,  creeping  always  behind.  Look  well  to 
your  friend.  The  shadow  follows,  but  does  not  rest  on 
— you.  If  it  should,  there  is  a  pale,  cold  woman  in 
England  who — but  I  cannot  tell  you  if  she  would  be 
sorry,  or  if  you  will  ever  see  her  again.  There  is  also 
treasure,  but  the  lines  fade  and  the  crosses  are  many, 
with  only  the  sign  of  danger  clear.  I  can  see  no  farther. 
Only  the  good  saints  know  the  end." 

She  paused  for  a  moment,  leaving  Dane  somewhat 
impressed,  for,  although  no  believer  in  palmistry  of 
that  description,  he  had  seen  that  Miss  Castro  was 
apparently  not  speaking  without  a  purpose.  Then  she 
laid  down  the  Aggri  and,  it  seemed  to  Dane,  her  mantle 
of  prophetess  simultaneously,  saying  in  her  usual  tone, 
but  with  somewhat  unusual  earnestness: 

"And  now  you  will  not  laugh  while  I  give  you  the 
warning.  Beware  of  these  three  things:  a  man  with 
the  holy  cross  on  his  forehead,  the  carved  calabash, 
and  the  leopard's  skin.  You  will  remember  always,  but 
tell  only  the  Sen  or  Maxwell.  There  is  one  at  least  who 
would  not  have  that  shadow  overtake  you.  It  may  be 
I  shall  see  you  in  Africa." 

Here  the  eager  crowd  outside  showed  signs  of  storm- 
ing the  tent,  and  Dane  was  forced  to  take  his  leave, 
reflecting  that  it  might  perhaps  be  as  well  if  they  did 
not,  as  Miss  Castro  expected,  meet  in  Africa.  Rejoining 
Maxwell,  he  told  him  what  he  had  heard,  concluding: 

"It  much  resembled  the  usual  professional  sooth- 
sayer's medley,  and  I  could  make  neither  head  nor  tail 
of  it.  Still,  the  senorita's  manner  impressed  me." 

"How  did  she  look  or  speak?"  Maxwell's  glance 
betrayed  his  interest. 


A  WARNING  93 

"As  though  she  believed  what  she  was  saying,  and 
wished  me  to." 

"I  am  inclined  to  think  she  did,"  Maxwell  answered 
thoughtfully.  "She  was  also  probably  giving  you 
good  advice  in  the  one  way  available.  How  she  knows 
I  cannot  tell,  but  by  the  light  of  past  experience  I  can 
make  a  good  deal  of  the  medley.  As  you  probably 
surmised,  her  warning  was  not  the  result  of  divination." 

Maxwell  did  not  appear  inclined  to  answer  questions, 
and,  dismissing  the  subject,  they  proceeded  to  make  the 
most  of  their  last  few  hours  upon  what  he  termed 
Christian  soil.  The  black  peaks  were  fading  against 
the  saffron  in  the  west,  and  purple  darkness  creeping  up 
from  Africa  across  the  sea,  when  the  mail  gun  warned 
them  it  was  time  to  return  to  the  steamer. 

"We  shall  have  seen,  and  perhaps  suffered,  very 
strange  things  before  we  set  foot  in  a  civilized  land 
again,"  said  Maxwell.  "It  is  not  a  tropical  sporting 
trip  that  we  are  embarking  upon.  There  remain  just 
five  minutes  for  a  valedictory  libation." 

"Champagne!"  Dane  said  to  the  Swiss  attendant  as 
they  passed  through  the  veranda  of  the  hotel;  and  pres- 
ently he  rose  from  a  little  table,  holding  up  the  sparkling 
cup.  Maxwell's  hints  had  impressed  him,  and  there 
was  a  grimness  behind  his  smile  when  he  spoke. 

"  Here's  death  or  glory !  A  swift  journey  to  the  heart 
of  the  forest  I" 

Maxwell  generally  frowned  upon  anything  that 
approached  the  theatrical,  but,  as  he  touched  his 
comrade's  glass  with  his  own,  his  face  was  grave. 

"Heaven  send  us  both  back  safe  out  of  it  and— 
because  the  one  implies  the  other — confound  the 
cross-marked  man  I" 


94   THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

Dane  asked  no  questions.  Maxwell  was  always 
slightly  oracular,  and  might  not  have  answered  them; 
and  a  few  minutes  later  they  were  being  rowed  off  to 
the  steamer  in  company  with  Dom  Pedro  Castro. 

The  Manyamba  was  not  a  fast  boat;  she  anchored 
off  many  surf -hammered  beaches  before  she  reached 
the  one  where  the  adventurers  had  arranged  to  disem- 
bark, and  where,  as  it  happened,  Dom  Pedro  had  built 
his  principal  factory.  He  proved  a  pleasant  com- 
panion, though  Dane  fancied  that  he  was  weak  alike 
in  character  and  in  principle.  One  day  as  they  rolled 
slowly  along  the  spray-veiled  coast  with  a  maze  of 
half -seen  mangroves  over  the  port  hand,  Dom  Pedro 
sauntered  across  the  deck  toward  Dane. 

"You  go  up  into  the  Leopard's  country  to  look 
for  gold?"  he  said,  glancing  at  Dane  in  a  manner 
which  puzzled  him. 

"We  are  certainly  going  inland,  but  I  am  afraid 
that  is  all  I  can  tell  you,"  Dane  replied  guardedly. 

Dom  Pedro  smiled. 

"Then  you  seek  the  gold.  Even  your  countrymen 
do  not  go  into  that  forest  for  pleasure.  But  only  one 
man,  I  think,  has  seen  that  gold  since  the  men  of  my 
nation  who  came  after  Gama  ruled  this  country. 
That  man  he  die,  as  you  call  it,  crazy.  How  much 
your  expedition  cost  you,  Don  II ton?" 

Dane  mentioned  an  approximate  sum,  expressing  his 
surprise  that  the  questioner  should  even  have  guessed 
their  object,  but  refraining  from  stating  whether  the 
guess  was  a  correct  one;  and  the  elder  man  spread  out 
his  yellow  palms  deprecatingly. 

"Where  the  gold  lie  is  not  concern  me.  I  am 
gentleman  of  peace  and  commercio.  There  is  one  man, 


A  WARNING  95 

not  all  the  nigger,  who  think  he  know,  and  another 
not  all  a  white  man  who  will  pay  him  to  hinder  you. 
More  I  only  guess  at  and  cannot  tell  you,  but  I  know 
you  and  the  Senor  Maxwell  never  pass  the  Leopard 
country.  Don  Ilton,  I  presume  you  bold  man  who  come 
here  to  make  the  money.  With  the  sum  you  mention 
I  show  you  how.  It  is  not  all  for  the  good  will,  but 
for  the  assistance  also  of  me." 

Now  Dane  might  have  suspected  treachery,  but  he 
did  not  do  so.  Indeed,  he  was  inclined  to  fancy  the 
offer  and  warning  were  genuine.  He  declined  the 
offer,  however;  and  consulted  Maxwell  on  the  first 
opportunity. 

"I  believe  what  he  told  you  was  spoken  in  good 
faith,"  Maxwell  said;  "and  he  was  perfectly  correct. 
The  first  man  he  mentioned  is  probably  the  rascal  who 
betrayed  poor  Niven;  and  Rideau  must  be  the  other. 
He  has,  if  I  am  correct  in  my  surmises,  had  dealings 
not  wholly  creditable  to  either,  with  Dom  Pedro;  and 
it  is  possible  the  latter  might  have  found  us  useful. 
This  combination  may,  however,  increase  our 
difficulties." 


CHAPTER  VIII 

TREACHERY 

THE  region  which  lies  behind  the  West  African 
coast  is  not  a  pleasant  one  to  traverse,  and  bad 
fortune  seemed  to  attend  Maxwell's  expedition  from 
the  time  it  marched  out  of  the  seaboard  settlement, 
where  he  had  had  trouble  with  certain  French  officials, 
as  well  as  with  the  black  head  man  from  whom  he  hired 
his  carriers.  All  of  this  Dane  remembered  when  he 
halted,  one  burning  afternoon,  shoulder-deep  in  the 
tall  grass  of  a  swamp,  worn  out  in  body  and  perplexed 
in  mind.  Few  Europeans  are  capable  of  much  exertion 
in  that  country,  especially  during  the  hottest  part  of  the 
afternoon;  but  the  hammock  boys  were  too  weary  to 
drag  their  burdens  farther,  and  there  was  urgent  need 
for  haste.  Dane  accordingly  had  taxed  his  strength  to 
the  utmost  during  the  last  few  hours.  The  tall  grass 
stems  were  almost  too  hot  to  touch,  and  foul  mire 
bubbled  about  their  roots.  At  least  a  league  of  it, 
through  which,  slashed  by  saw-edged  blades  and  stabbed 
by  broken  stalks,  the  expedition  must  force  its  way, 
stretched  toward  an  inland  ridge  of  higher  ground  that 
rose  from  the  morass.  Beyond  this,  in  turn,  flat- 
topped  hills  dimmed  by  a  yellow  heat  haze  cut  the 
horizon. 

As  Dane  halted,  a  naked  carrier  stumbled,  and, 
dropping  the  deal  case  from  his  woolly  crown,  splashed 
him  all  over.  Another  straightway  fell  over  his 

96 


TREACHERY  97 

prostrate  comrade,  and  began  a  spirited  attack  upon 
him  when  they  scrambled  to  their  feet  again.  Dane 
was  too  weary  to  rebuke  either  in  the  fashion  they  would 
best  understand;  but  a  man  of  dusky  color  undertook 
the  duty  for  him,  with  the  barrel  of  a  gaspipe  gun,  and 
the  combatants,  desisting,  found  new  places  in  the 
straggling  line.  A  few  picked  men  in  flowing  white 
draperies  with  flintlock  guns  on  their  shoulders  were 
already  floundering  through  the  swamp  ahead.  Behind 
them,  almost  and  wholly  naked  negroes,  many  wearing 
on  their  forehead  the  blue  band  which  marks  the 
amphibious  Kroo,  went  splashing  by,  each  bearing  a 
deal  case  or  tarred  cloth  package  upon  his  crown. 
Then  the  rearguard,  tall  and  soldierly  men  with  the 
blood  of  the  Arab  in  them,  who  carried  old-fashioned 
rifles  in  spite  of  certain  regulations,  came  up  with 
Maxwell.  They  wore  a  ragged  white  uniform,  swore 
by  the  Prophet,  and  were,  as  Dane  subsequently 
discovered,  reliable  fighting  men.  The  Krooboys 
carried  a  cutlass-shaped  matchet,  a  by  no  means 
despicable  weapon  when  rubbed  keen  with  a  file. 

Maxwell  differed  in  outward  appearance  from  the 
somewhat  fastidious  gentleman  Dane  had  known  in 
Scotland.  His  cotton  jacket  was  badly  rent,  sun-baked 
mire  clung  thickly  about  his  leggings,  and  one  side  of 
his  big  sun-helmet  had  been  flattened  in.  The  raw  con- 
dition of  his  face  and  neck  betokened  the  power  of  the 
last  few  days'  sun,  and  he  blinked  a  little  because  his 
eyes  had  suffered  by  the  change  from  the  forest  shadow 
to  the  dazzling  brightness  and  the  fibrous  dust  of  the 
grass. 

"Don't  let  your  particular  scarecrows  get  too  far 
ahead  of  you,  Hilton,"  he  cautioned.  "I  should 


98      THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

hardly  have  suspected  you  of  any  inclination  to 
stop  and  admire  the  scenery  after  the  opinion  you 
recently  expressed  concerning  this  country." 

"Fd  willingly  burn  or  flood  the  whole  of  it  if  I 
could,"  Dane  replied  irritably.  "Miss  Castro  was  not 
mistaken  when  she  mentioned  the  shadow  that  crept 
up  from  behind.  Ill  luck  has  certainly  followed  us  from 
the  beginning,  and  it  is  time  we  turned  round  and  en- 
deavored to  settle  up  accounts  with  whoever  is  the 
cause  of  it." 

"You  may  have  an  opportunity  to-night,  or  earlier," 
said  Maxwell.  "When,  in  spite  of  warnings,  two 
white  men  insist  on  visiting  a  region  which  was  spe- 
cially made  for  black  men,  they  can't  expect  to  be  com- 
fortable. What  is  it  that  excites  your  particular  in- 
dignation?" 

The  malarial  fever  contracted  in  other  parts  of  the 
tropics  had,  as  not  infrequently  happens,  returned  upon 
Dane  in  Africa.  His  head  ached  intolerably,  every 
joint  seemed  stiff,  and  he  swept  his  hand  round  the 
horizon  as  he  answered  vaguely. 

"Everything!  Why  was  it  that,  after  drinking  at  a 
village  well,  two  of  our  carriers  died?  Why  should 
venomous  insects  crawl  into  my  boots  and  from 
underneath  my  pillow?  Or  a  guide,  who  declared  he 
knew  the  country,  bog  us  waist-deep  in  a  quagmire, 
where  we  lost  half  our  ammunition?  Doesn't  it  strike 
you  that  the  sequence  of  accidents  is  not  all  due  to 
coincidence?" 

"And,  in  addition  to  all  this,  you  will  be  wondering 
why  you  are  prostrate  with  fever  to-morrow,  if  you 
excite  yourself  at  the  present  temperature.  Forget 
your  grievances  until  your  turn  comes,  and  then 


TREACHERY  99 

strike  the  harder.  Meanwhile,  we  have  been  stalked 
since  we  passed  the  last  village,  and  the  sooner  we  reach 
yonder  dry  ground,  and  build  a  breastwork,  the 
better." 

Knowing  that  this  was  good  counsel,  Dane  did  his 
best,  finding  a  savage  comfort  in  the  thought  that  at 
last  he  would  probably  have  the  satisfaction  of  seeing 
his  persecutors;  but  the  grass  was  tall  and  matted,  the 
temperature  suffocating,  and  when  they  lost  sight  of  the 
islet  the  morass  appeared  interminable.  Such  civiliza- 
tion as  may  be  found  in  West  Africa  is  only  skin-deep. 
That  is  to  say,  it  pertains  to  the  coast,  and  is  occasion- 
ally hard  to  discover  there.  In  many  places  it  still 
extends  less  than  a  day's  march  from  the  black  troops' 
barracks,  and  the  white  man  who  travels  beyond  that 
distance  takes  his  own  risks,  which  are  sometimes 
considerable.  Dane  already  had  cause  to  realize  this, 
and  he  was  accordingly  thankful  when  at  last  the  ex- 
pedition, floundering  out  of  the  swamp,  reached  the 
strip  of  firmer  earth.  Here  a  breastwork  of  deal  cases 
and  branches  was  built,  and  camp  pitched  among  the 
giant  buttresses  staying  the  cottonwood  trunks. 

"I  think,"  said  Maxwell  cheerfully,  when  they  lin- 
gered over  a  frugal  meal,  "if  any  misguided  bushmen 
try  to  rush  this  camp  to-night  they  will  regret  it.  I 
will  see  to  the  sentries  and  keep  first  watch  while  you 
rest.  You  look  as  though  you  needed  sleep." 

Dane  certainly  did,  having  enjoyed  little  sleep  worth 
mentioning  since  he  left  the  coast.  Indeed,  he  could 
scarcely  keep  his  eyes  open,  and  he  wondered  vacantly 
that  Maxwell,  who  seemed  proof  against  the  climate, 
should  show  no  sign  of  fatigue.  When  he  unrolled  his 
strip  of  matting  and  water-proof  inside  the  little  tent, 


100  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

the  African  sunset  was  flaming  in  the  west,  and  the  cot- 
tonwoods  crowning  the  ridge  stood  out  black  as  ebony 
against  its  almost  unearthly  brilliancy.  Among  them 
fantastic  figures,  some  naked  as  when  they  first  entered 
the  world,  some  draped  in  white  and  blue,  crouched 
about  the  cooking  fires;  while,  seen  between  two  mighty 
buttresses  of  living  wood  which  stayed  ponderous 
trunks,  men  with  matchets  and  long  guns  were  curled 
up  beneath  the  breastwork.  The  wood  smoke  drifted 
in  filmy  wisps  athwart  the  lonely  camp,  the  swamp 
steamed  like  a  cauldron,  and  the  chirruping  of  countless 
frogs  rose  out  of  the  vapor.  Then  the  brief  brilliancy 
faded,  and  thick  impenetrable  darkness  suddenly  rolled 
down.  The  faint  coolness  that  came  with  it  brought 
sleep  to  Dane,  and  it  was  midnight  when  Maxwell's 
voice  roused  him. 

"Get  up  and  stand  by  with  your  rifle!  There  are 
bushmen  in  the  grass!"  he  said. 

Half-awake,  Dane  groped  for  the  breastwork,  falling 
over  several  negroes  on  the  way,  and  when  he  reached 
it  the  blackness  was  Egyptian.  There  was  nothing 
visible  beyond  the  loom  of  shadowy  trunks,  but  Dane 
could  hear  unseen  men  breathing  heavily,  the  click- 
clack  of  flintlocks,  and  the  rasp  of  a  file  along  a  matchet 
blade.  Then  a  faint  crackle  which  drew  nearer  came 
out  of  the  grass,  and  instantly  a  blaze  of  weird  blue 
radiance  leaped  up,  showing  Maxwell's  spare  figure 
perched  recklessly  aloft  upon  the  breastwork  with  a 
port-fire  held  high  above  him.  Its  glare  beat  along 
the  matchet  blades,  the  gun-barrels,  and  the  oily  skin 
of  the  men  beneath,  and  showed  black  patches  which 
might  have  been  arms  or  heads  among  the  grass.  Then 
it  died  out;  and  Dane  pitched  the  rifle  to  his  shoulder 


TREACHERY  lot 

at  Maxwell's  shout.  There  was  neither  challenge  nor 
parley.  They  were  now  beyond  civilized  jurisdiction, 
and  the  right  of  any  man  to  existence  in  that  country 
depends  upon  the  strength  of  his  hand. 

The  heel-plate  jarred  on  his  shoulder,  the  barrel 
jumped  in  his  left  hand,  red  sparks  flickered  along  the 
breastwork,  and  the  sputtering  roar  of  the  flintlocks 
was  repeated  among  the  trunks.  Dane  fancied  a 
scream  rose  in  answer  from  the  grass,  and  once  or  twice 
a  long  gun  flashed ;  then  the  firing  slackened,  and  it  was 
heartsome  to  hear  Maxwell  laugh.  He  came  stumbling 
toward  Dane,  and  held  up  a  second  port-fire  whose  light 
showed  no  trace  of  any  assailant.  The  silence  that 
followed  grew  oppressive.  It  was,  however,  suddenly 
broken.  A  rifle  flashed  in  the  rear  of  the  camp,  a 
bullet  whirred  close  by  Dane's  head;  and  Maxwell, 
dropping  the  flare,  set  his  foot  upon  it. 

"The  second  time!  That  was  a  good  rifle,  and  fired 
by  one  of  our  own  men,"  he  said.  "Take  this  nigger, 
Hilton,  crawl  in  on  him,  and,  disregarding  anything 
which  may  happen,  get  that  man — alive  if  you  can. 
He  is  worth  all  the  rest  of  the  expedition." 

Crouching  low,  crawling  on  hands  and  knees,  and 
slipping  from  trunk  to  trunk,  the  pair  worked  backward 
in  a  semicircle,  though,  instead  of  following,  it  was 
the  negro  who  led  the  white  man.  It  seemed  to  Dane 
that  he  was  making  noise  enough  to  waken  the  dead, 
but  his  dusky  companion  had  probably  owed  his  life 
to  his  powers  of  silent  motion,  and  his  progress  was  as 
noiseless  as  that  of  a  serpent.  Still,  a  clamor  which 
broke  out  at  the  rear  of  the  camp  drowned  the  sound  of 
Dane's  passage,  and  presently  a  fire  commenced  to 
crackle  behind  the  serried  trunks.  Rising  partly  upright, 


THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

he  could  see  naked  figures  outlined  against  it  flitting  with 
burdens  on  their  heads  into  the  swamp.  Nevertheless, 
Maxwell's  instructions  were  explicit,  and,  when  the 
negro  beckoned,  he  sank  down  again. 

The  fire  tossed  higher,  and  Dane  surmised  that  some- 
body had  lighted  the  dried  grass  to  divert  attention 
from  the  deserters  or  a  fresh  attack.  Its  purport, 
however,  was  in  the  meantime  a  side  issue,  for,  as  the 
radiance  came  flickering  athwart  the  trunks,  it  revealed 
something  dim  and  shadowy  crouching  among  the  roots 
of  a  neighboring  cottonwood.  The  blurred  shape 
might  have  escaped  notice  had  not  the  line  of  steel  before 
it  glimmered  once  or  twice.  With  infinite  caution 
Dane  covered  a  few  more  yards,  and  stooped  behind  a 
screen  of  trailers,  with  every  nerve  quivering,  and  a 
heavy  pistol  clenched  in  his  right  hand.  What  had  be- 
come of  the  negro  he  did  not  know.  Once  the  assassin 
raised  his  weapon,  and  Dane  laid  the  short  pistol 
barrel  upon  his  raised  forearm,  hoping  that  the  stiffness 
of  the  trigger  might  not  spoil  his  aim;  but  he  lowered 
it  again,  for,  evidently  attracted  by  the  increasing 
glare,  the  man  he  stalked  rose  partly  upright,  glancing 
over  his  shoulder.  His  caution  betrayed  him,  for, 
hurling  himself  crashing  through  the  creepers,  Dane  fell 
upon  him,  driving  the  heavy  pistol  into  the  center  of  the 
dusky  face  with  his  full  weight  behind  it.  The  two 
went  down,  the  colored  man  undermost,  clawing  with 
greasy  hands  at  his  adversary's  throat.  Their  grip 
was  feeble,  for  the  first  blow  had  got  home;  but  time 
was  precious,  and  Dane,  heaving  his  right  shoulder 
clear,  brought  the  steel-bound  butt  down  again. 

There  was  a  hollow  groan;  several  men  who  came 
running  up  fell  heavily  over  the  pair,  and  while  one 


TREACHERY  103 

dragged  the  half-dazed  white  man  clear,  the  others 
lashed  the  prisoner  fast  with  creeper  ropes.  Rising 
shakily,  Dane  sent  up  a  breathless  shout. 

"Stand  fast  and  see  that  nobody  gets  in  your  way 
if  you  have  him  safe!"  cried  Maxwell.  "Don't  trouble 
about  the  grass !  It  is  damp  among  the  cottonwoods, 
and  will  soon  burn  out." 

Dane  waited  ten  long  minutes,  feeling  thankful, 
meanwhile,  that  the  one  spot  where  the  ridge  could  be 
reached  on  that  side  through  the  quaggy  swamp  was 
lighted  by  the  fire.  Then  Maxwell  joined  him,  and, 
trusting  to  their  subordinates'  vigilance,  they  made 
the  round  of  the  knoll  together.  A  dozen  carriers  were 
missing;  and  their  assailants  had  vanished  as  myster- 
iously as  they  came. 

"We  shall  miss  the  boys,  but  it  might  be  fatal  to 
try  to  follow  them;  and  at  least  we  know  whom  we  can 
trust,"  said  Maxwell.  "A  treacherous  servant  is 
worse  to  deal  with  than  an  open  enemy.  Our  assail- 
ants were  evidently  mere  bush  thieves,  and  not  regular 
fighting  men,  or  they  would  probably  have  got  in. 
Whether  they  expected  help  from  the  deserters,  or  what 
share  the  man  you  seized  had  in  the  plot,  I  can't  decide 
now;  and,  in  the  meantime,  it  is  of  no  great  importance. 
We  shall  discover  it  to-morrow." 

Nobody  in  camp  slept  during  the  rest  of  the  night, 
which  was  one  of  the  longest  in  Dane's  recollection. 
Most  of  it  he  spent  huddled  among  the  roots  of  a  cotton- 
wood  while  the  heavy  dew  of  the  tropics  splashed  upon 
him,  straining  ears  and  eyes  alike  for  any  sign  of  the 
enemy.  There  was,  however,  no  sound  but  the  wailing 
of  some  night  bird  from  all  the  tangled  grass;  and  except 
when  now  and  then  a  murmur  of  negro  voices  rose  up, 


104  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

a  deep  impressive  silence  brooded  over  the  camp. 
Dane  could  hear  his  watch  ticking,  and  there  were 
times  when  he  found  it  difficult  to  master  an  impulse 
to  cry  aloud,  or  to  commit  any  extravagance  which 
would  break  the  tormenting  stillness. 

At  last,  however,  the  temperature  fell  a  little.  A 
faint  chill  air  shook  the  dew  from  the  tangled  creepers 
flung  from  mighty  branch  to  branch,  and  the  darkness 
became  less  dense.  The  steam  of  the  swamps  grew 
thicker,  a  streak  of  radiance  broadened  in  the  east, 
and  suddenly  as  night  had  fallen,  the  red  sun  leaped  up. 
It  was  once  more  burning  day,  and  neither  the  dew- 
drenched  white  men,  who  stiffly  straightened  their  ach- 
ing limbs,  nor  the  stolid  Africans,  who  rolled  over  in 
their  lairs  among  the  undergrowth,  were  sorry  to  greet 
the  light  again.  They  were  a  pitiful  handful  of  travel- 
worn  and  somewhat  dejected  men,  alone  on  a  contracted 
islet  of  dry  soil  in  a  limitless  sea  of  mist  whose  white 
waves  were  doubtless  filled  with  unseen  perils. 

"Another  day  to  be  endured,"  said  Maxwell,  yawn- 
ing as  he  spoke.  "  Another,  and  another,  until  the  long 
weeks  swell  into  months,  and  then,  if  nobody  poisons 
or  shoots  us  prematurely,  we  shall  go  back  to  England 
and  fancy  we  have  been  dreaming.  Has  it  occurred  to 
you  yet,  Hilton,  that  the  men  who  gain  fortunes  in 
Africa  don't  win  but  earn  them  hardly?  One  might 
wonder  why  a  beneficent  Creator  made  this  country." 

"It  was  His  Satanic  Majesty  who  made  West  Africa, 
using  for  a  model  his  own  dominions.  A  good  many 
details  prove  it  beside  the  temperature!" 

It  was  eight  o'clock  in  the  morning  and  already 
fiercely  hot,  while  the  brightness  outside  the  shade  of 
the  cottonwoods  grew  dazzling,  when  Maxwell,  con- 


TREACHERY  105 

stituting  himself  at  once  prosecutor  and  judge,  sum- 
moned the  prisoner  before  an  informal  court.  He  was 
a  big  man,  draped  in  loose  cotton,  and  rather  the  hue 
of  ocher  than  ebony;  but  his  countenance  was  ghastly 
as  well  as  malevolent,  for  the  pistol  butt  had  left  its 
mark  on  it.  A  slackly  rolled  turban  covered  half  his 
forehead,  and  he  leaned  with  his  back  against  a  cotton- 
wood  scowling  upon  his  judge.  Maxwell  sat  on  a  camp- 
stool,  not  far  away,  with  a  rifle  laid  across  his  knee; 
Dane  lay  in  the  grass  beside  him;  and  the  carriers 
and  the  armed  men  were  drawn  up  in  a  half-circle 
behind  them.  Hitherto  the  would-be  assassin,  who 
acted  as  headman  or  chief  of  a  section,  had  done  nothing 
to  excite  Dane's  suspicions. 

"There  is  no  law  in  this  country  but  one,  the  lex  tal- 
ionis,  while  you  and  I  are  responsible  for  the  lives  of  all 
these  about  us,"  said  Maxwell.  "It  is  a  heavy  re- 
sponsibility, and  I  dare  not  allow  any  attempt  to 
betray  them  to  pass  unpunished.  You  need  not 
translate  this,  interpreter.  Ask  that  fellow  why  he 
twice  shot  at  the  men  whose  bread  and  salt  he  has 
eaten." 

What  the  interpreter,  who  spoke  a  little  of  the  fan- 
tastic English  in  use  along  the  coast,  said,  Dane  did 
not  know,  but  he  spent  some  time  over  it,  and  when  he 
had  finished  the  prisoner  spat  upon  the  ground  con- 
temptuously. 

"Damn  fool  man,"  explained  the  sable  linguist.  " He 
savvy  too  much  and  done  say  nothing." 

"That  means  he  refuses  to  plead,"  said  Maxwell. 
"Well,  we  will  proceed  to  inquire  into  his  offenses  as  di- 
rectly as  possible.  Listen  carefully,  and  don't  mix  up 
my  questions  more  than  you  can  help,  interpreter." 


106  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

Maxwell  asked  questions  which  astonished  his  com- 
panion, and  it  was  plain  that  he  had  for  some  time 
suspected  a  good  deal.  There  was  no  lack  of  testimony; 
for  carrier  and  armed  retainer  in  turn  set  forth,  through 
the  black  interpreter  or  in  quaintest  English,  how  the 
accused  had  told  them  gruesome  stories  of  the  devils 
inhabiting  the  country  they  were  venturing  into;  had 
dropped  hints  that  by  seizing  the  provisions  they  might 
enrich  themselves  for  life;  and  had  been  seen  communing 
with  mysterious  strangers  a  few  nights  earlier.  Dane 
listened  with  growing  indignation,  for  the  simple  tales 
made  plain  not  only  how  venomous  insects  got  into  his 
boots,  but  that  on  two  occasions  he  had  narrowly 
escaped  with  his  life. 

"Ask  them,"  said  Maxwell  grimly,  "why  nobody 
had  the  sense  to  tell  me  this  before." 

"Them  boy  say  you  not  done  ask  them,  sah,"  an- 
swered the  interpreter  convincingly. 

"It's  African  logic,  and  there's  no  use  expecting  too 
much  from  any  nigger,"  said  Maxwell  aside.  "The 
man's  guilt  is  plainly  evident;  but  while  presumably 
neither  of  us  knows  much  of  jurisprudence,  I  wish  to 
give  him  a  fair  chance  of  making  his  defense.  We  will 
do  it  in  his  own  speech,  though  I  am  inclined  to  fancy 
that  he  understands  English.  Interpreter,  try  to 
make  this  clear  to  him." 

Maxwell  spoke  for  some  minutes,  pausing  often  for 
the  linguist  to  explain  his  meaning,  and  again  aston- 
ished Dane.  He  traced  the  accused's  actions  with 
surprising  skill,  showing  how  he  had  inspired  a  maraud- 
ing headman  to  plunder  and  leave  them  starving,  and 
induced  the  carriers  to  desert  in  the  hope  of  precipitating 
a  panic  among  the  loyal.  He  also  connected  him  with 


TREACHERY  107 

several  of  the  mysterious  accidents  which  had  delayed 
the  march. 

"Tell  him  I  give  him  a  last  chance.  He  has  just 
five  minutes  to  clear  himself  in." 

Maxwell  laid  his  watch  on  the  camp-stool  between 
his  knees,  pointed  toward  a  lengthening  shaft  of  bright- 
ness which  approached  the  roots  of  a  tree,  and  then 
opened  and  closed  the  breach  of  his  rifle  significantly. 
The  dusky  man  before  him  showed  no  sign  of  fear,  and 
his  half-scornful,  wholly  malevolent  scowl,  together 
with  the  intense  silence,  the  expectant  black  faces,  and 
the  glint  of  light  on  weapons,  burnt  itself  into  Dane's 
memory.  The  five  minutes  seemed  very  long  to  him. 
Then,  as  his  comrade  slowly  replaced  his  watch  in  his 
pocket,  the  prisoner  spoke  a  few  words  disdainfully, 
and  Dane  could  feel  his  fingers  contract  as  he  waited 
for  the  interpreter's  answer. 

"Damn  fool  man,"  it  came.  "Say  he  only  sorry 
he  done  miss  you  that  time.  Very  bad  man,  sah. 
Say  no  white  man  or  coast  nigger  ever  lib  for  get  into 
the  Leopards'  country." 

"So,"  said  Maxwell  dryly.  "That  is  to  say,  while 
he  can  prevent  it,  which  may  not  be  long.  Ask  these 
boys  what  should  be  done  with  the  man  who  would 
have  left  them  starving,  or  perhaps  sold  them  for 
slaves  to  some  headman." 

The  camp  boys  had  followed  the  evidence,  and  a 
clamor  of  voices  answered  the  query.  Big  eyes  glis- 
tened, black  thumbs  were  run  along  twinkling  matchet 
blades,  and  Dane  distinguished  ominous  cries. 

"You  shoot  him  one  time,  sah!  Give  him  to  us  and 
we  done  chop  him!" 

"It  is  the  only  possible  verdict,"  Maxwell  said  with 


108  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

strange  quietness.  "One  returns  to  primitive  customs 
in  this  part  of  Africa;  and  it  is  more  merciful  that  one 
should  die  than  many.  A  curse  upon  the  country! 
Must  I  turn  executioner? — but  for  the  sake  of  all  those 
about  us,  there  is  no  other  way." 

"What  is  your  purpose?"  Dane  asked  sharply, 
jumping  to  his  feet. 

Maxwell  looked  at  him  steadily  with  his  lips  firmly 
set  and  the  color  mottled  a  little  in  his  face. 

"  Give  him  thirty  seconds  to  reach  the  grass.  I  might 
miss;  these  others  certainly  would — and  it  will  be  a 
little  easier  that  way.  Do  you  understand  me,  inter- 
preter? If  he  can  reach  the  swamp  alive  no  man  shall 
harm  him." 

"You  shall  not  do  it!"  Dane  exclaimed  hotly. 
"Heaven  knows,  the  brute  deserves  it;  but  you  can't  go 
home  with  your  hands  fouled  by  that  helpless  wretch's 
blood !  Pass  him  that  rifle,  and  give  me  another,  with 
fifty  yards  to  commence  at,  if  you  can't  think  of  any- 
thing better.  The  other  is  too  much  like  murder!" 

For  a  moment  the  returning  color  suffused  Maxwell's 
forehead,  and  there  was  a  flash  of  anger  in  his  eyes, 
but  he  was  generally  master  of  his  temper,  and  he 
answered  calmly. 

"I  could  not  afford  to  lose  you,  Hilton.  As  I  said, 
we  have  these  men's  lives  to  answer  for;  and  while 
that  fellow  lives  theirs  and  our  own  are  equally  in 
danger.  That  reminds  me,  I  had  forgotten  something 
which  may  or  may  not  surprise  you  further.  You 
yonder,  strike  off  his  turban!" 

A  Kroo  did  it  with  the  haft  of  his  machet,  and  Dane 
gasped  with  astonishment,  for  there  was  a  curiously 
shaped  scar  on  the  prisoner's  forehead. 


TREACHERY  109 


"The  cross-marked  man,"  said  Maxwell.  "The  ras- 
cal who  betrayed  and  sold  poor  Niven's  carriers.  He  has, 
I  think,  one  white  man's  death  already  to  answer  for." 

Dane,  stooping,  laid  a  hand  on  each  of  the  speaker's 
shoulders.  Maxwell  was  a  determined  man,  with 
virile  brain  and  no  lack  of  nervous  energy;  but  Dane 
had  the  advantage  in  stature  and  muscular  strength, 
and  was  glad  that  it  was  so.  His  leader  was  helpless 
in  his  grasp. 

"  You  are  perfectly  right,  Carsluith,"  he  said  stolidly. 
"If  you  were  not,  it  would  be  useless  for  me  to  try  to 
convince  you;  but  I  give  you  warning  that  the  death 
of  this  man  dissolves  our  partnership;  and  it  will,  at 
least,  not  be  your  rifle  which  fires  the  fatal  shot." 

Maxwell  smiled  curiously. 

"Do  you  suppose  I  am  fond  of  bloodshed,  or  sorry 
that  you  have  forced  me  against  my  judgment?"  he  said. 
"On  your  head  be  it,  and  you  can  have  the  murderer. 
I  hope  that  neither  of  us  will  regret  your  clemency!" 

He  beckoned  the  interpreter,  and  when  the  latter  had 
spoken,  the  prisoner  twice  spat  upon  the  ground,  which 
was  probably  the  most  insulting  action  that  occurred  to 
him;  then,  turning,  without  word  or  sign,  stalked  into  the 
grass.  There  was  a  harsh  crackling,  and,  when  his 
ragged  draperies  vanished,  a  murmur  of  wonder  from  the 
camp  boys.  Maxwell  sighed  as  with  relief. 

"I  am  glad  it  is  over;  and  whether  we  have  done  ill  or 
well,  time  alone  will  show,  but  neither  of  us  has  seen  the 
last  of  the  cross-marked  man,"  he  said.  "In  the  mean- 
time, we  want  more  carriers  and  supplies.  Go  back  to 
the  coast  and  get  them.  You  will  have  much  less  trouble 
on  the  return  journey.  I  will  stockade  a  camp  in  the  hills 
yonder  and  wait  for  you." 


CHAPTER  IX 

TEMPTATION 

DANE'S  preparations  for  his  journey  were  quickly 
made,  and  he  was  ready  to  start  before  the  sun  was 
overhead. 

"Life  is  very  uncertain  in  this  country,  and  because 
we  are  partners  it  might  be  as  well  if  you  took  this  map 
with  you  in  case  you  should  not  find  me  on  your  return," 
said  Maxwell.  "I  worked  it  out  from  Niven's  notes, 
and  have  the  knowledge  safe  within  my  brain;  but  you 
will  remember  that  the  information  would  be  of  value  to 
another  white  man,  who  has  already  made  attempts  to 
obtain  it.  It  might  also  be  well,  in  case  Miss  Castro 
happens  to  be  present  at  her  father's  factory,  if  you 
conducted  yourself  with  a  little  more  than  your  usual 
diplomacy." 

"Your  advice  is  a  trifle  superfluous,"  returned  Dane 
testily.  "Do  you  think  I'm  fool  or  rogue  enough  to 
make  love  to  her?" 

Maxwell  smiled. 

"You  are  one  person,  and  I  mentioned  two.  With  all 
respect  to  Miss  Castro,  it  is  not  quite  impossible  that  she 
might  make  love  to  you.  Remember  that  she  might 
either  prove  a  useful  friend  or  a  dangerous  enemy." 

A  few  minutes  later  Dane,  followed  by  three  men  of 
Moslem  faith,  was  on  his  way;  and  eventually  limped— 
hungry,  half-dazed,  and  sick  of  fever — out  of  the  dim 
forest,  which,  it  seemed  to  him,  was  loth  to  let  its  victim 

110 


TEMPTATION  111 

go.  The  glare  of  sunlight  was  overpowering,  and  at  first 
he  could  see  little  more  than  the  two  ragged  scarecrows, 
one  muttering  excitedly  as  he  stretched  out  a  brown  hand 
toward  the  southern  horizon,  and  the  other  leaning  very 
heavily  on  his  long  Snider  rifle.  The  third  man  lay  full 
length  among  the  grass.  Dane  could  never  recollect  all 
the  incidents  of  that  journey  through  a  land  of  eternal 
shadow,  but  he  felt  tolerably  certain  that  if  his  dusky 
followers  had  not  served  him  faithfully  his  bones  would 
have  lain  rotting  somewhere  among  its  jungles. 

Then,  as  his  eyes  grew  accustomed  to  the  change  of 
light,  he  shouted  exultantly,  in  a  voice  his  British  friends 
would  not  have  recognized.  The  shining  to  the  south- 
ward was,  beyond  all  doubt,  the  sea,  and  the  white 
blurs  among  the  palms  could  represent  only  factories! 
Turning,  he  shook  his  fist  at  the  forest  with  childish 
solemnity. 

"Tell  Amadu  to  turn  that  gun  away  from  him,  Monday. 
It  might  go  off,  and  I  be  no  fit  to  lose  him,"  he  said  in 
coast  jargon.  "I  don't  care  what  your  color  is,  you  are 
fine  fellows  too  much,  both  of  you,  and  now  we'll  go  on 
while  we  have  strength  left  to  reach  them  factory." 

How  much  his  followers  comprehended  did  not  appear. 
The  man  he  called  Monday  grinned  from  ear  to  ear,  the 
other  slung  his  rifle,  and  they  went  on,  staggering  at  their 
best  pace  toward  the  sea,  though  Dane  had  a  vague  im- 
pression that,  with  one  arm  beneath  either  shoulder,  the 
two  ragged  Africans  dragged  him  most  of  the  way.  Some 
time  later  a  blindingly  whitewashed  factory  rose  up  before 
them  against  a  background  of  tossing  spray  and  equally 
dazzling  sea,  and  Dane  made  shift  to  reach  its  outer 
stairway  unaided.  An  elderly  man  and  a  lady  who  sat 
on  the  shady  veranda  rose  at  the  sight  of  him.  Making 


THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

an  attempt  to  raise  his  battered  sun-hat,  he  lurched  up 
the  stairway.  The  attempt  was  not  successful.  The 
sun-hat  fell  over  the  balustrade,  and  he  saw  it  long  after- 
ward, painted  green  and  blue,  upon  a  Krooboy's  head. 
Clutching  at  the  topmost  rail,  he  steadied  himself  by  it. 

"Unexpected  pleasure  to  see  you  here,  Miss  Castro," 
he  said.  " Salutations,  Dom  Pedro!  Sorry  to  arrive 
in  this  fashion;  not  quite  myself  to-day." 

The  elderly  man  shouted,  clapping  his  hands,  the  lady 
moved  toward  the  newcomer;  then  factory  and  palm 
trees  went  round  and  round  before  him,  and  Dane, 
loosing  his  hold,  went  down  with  a  crash. 

What  happened  next  he  did  not  remember,  having 
only  a  hazy  recollection  of  tossing  in  burning  torment 
for  an  interminable  space,  during  which  at  intervals 
somebody  held  a  glass  filled  with  cooling  liquid  to  his 
lips,  while  now  and  then  gentle  hands,  whose  touch  was 
soothing,  raised  his  aching  head.  Still,  he  fancied  that 
at  times  a  white  face  bent  over  him,  and  once,  when  the 
dim  light  of  a  calabash  lamp  beat  into  his  eyes,  that 
waves  of  dusky  hair  drooped  close  above  his  forehead, 
and  that  he  caught,  and  held  fast  with  all  his  strength, 
the  cool  fingers  that  slipped  into  his  own.  They  seemed 
to  draw  him  back  out  of  the  black  abyss  into  which  he 
was  sliding;  and,  he  surmised  afterward,  they  actually 
did  so. 

Attacks  of  malarial  fever,  however,  are  usually  brief; 
and  not  long  after  his  arrival  Dane  lay,  clothed  in  neatly 
mended  garments  and  more  or  less  in  his  right  mind, 
beside  an  open  window  of  Castro's  factory.  The  words 
"more  or  less"  are  used  advisedly,  for  the  malaria  leaves 
a  strange  lassitude  behind  it,  and  the  sufferer  often  takes 
up  the  burden  of  life  again,  as  it  were,  reluctantly,  and 


TEMPTATION  113 

with  somewhat  clouded  brain.  The  sea  breeze  had  set  in 
fresh  and  cool,  but  the  man  lay  limp  and  dejected, 
scarcely  troubling  to  breathe  it  in,  while  a  haggard 
English  surgeon  from  a  neighboring  British  colony  sat 
near  by  watching  him  with  an  irritating  curiosity. 
White  men  recognize  the  bond  of  color  in  West  Africa, 
and  the  surgeon  had  remained  to  fight  hard  for  the  life  of 
a  stranger  when  passing  that  way.  Also,  where  all  dwell 
under  the  shadow  in  a  land  where  the  veneer  of  civiliza- 
tion wears  thin,  and  the  primitive  passions  show  through, 
the  Briton  casts  aside  much  of  his  normal  reticence. 

"Tolerably  bad,  was  I  not?"  asked  Dane;  and  the 
surgeon  answered  frankly. 

"You  were.  In  fact,  on  two  occasions,  I  concluded 
you  were  going  to  beat  me.  Wouldn't  even  take  a 
draught  from — me,  and  one  might  compliment  you  on 
your  determined  obstinacy." 

"I'm  much  obliged,"  Dane  said  slowly.  "That's  not 
quite  all  I  mean,  but  it's  the  best  I'm  capable  of  just 
now.  I  don't  know  who  you  are,  or  why  you  did  so 
much  for  me." 

The  surgeon  laughed  good-humoredly. 

"If  you  must  have  a  reason,  you  were  an  interesting 
case.  I'm  Dennis  Ormond,  of  the  Gold  Coast  service, 
and  Dom  Pedro  asked  me  to  look  at  you.  I  obliged  him, 
and  at  first  you  were  not  a  very  encouraging  spectacle. 
Of  course,  I  did  my  little,  but  I  may  say  that  my  medicine 
was  not  the  only  thing  responsible  for  your  cure.  The 
sefiorita  assisted  me  very  ably,  and — for  a  man  must 
sleep  sometimes — without  her  help  it  is  quite  probable 
we  should  have  attended  the  expected  funeral." 

Ormond  said  this  with  an  indifference  which  Dane, 
because  he  did  not  then  know  how  much  his  little  had 


114  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

been,  or  that  his  was  an  eminent  name  on  the  fever  coast, 
thought  hardly  civil;  but  there  was  a  warning  gravity  in 
his  tone  as  he  continued: 

"It  was,  of  course,  my  business;  but  not  the  senorita's; 
and  you  might  have  changed  the  pronouns  in  your  last 
sentence  advantageously." 

Dane  was  ashamed  of  several  things  he  said  and  did 
that  day,  and  his  answer  among  them;  but  few  white  men 
are  quite  accountable  for  their  actions  when  recovering 
from  fever,  and  there  was  that  in  the  surgeon's  glance 
which  aroused  his  indignation. 

"Are  you  not  taking  an  unfair  advantage — consider- 
ing how  much  I  owe  you !"  he  asked. 

"Perhaps  so!"  said  Ormond.  "In  this  land  one  takes 
an  advantage  when  and  how  one  can.  I  dare  say  I'm 
a  meddlesome  idiot;  but  I  conceived  a  certain  respect  for 
you,  if  only  because  of  the  spirited  manner  in  which  you 
resisted  my  attempts  to  cure  you;  and  more  for  the 
senorita.  Now,  I  don't  think  Miss  Castro,  curious 
combination  of  ministering  angel,  child,  and — well,  the 
angel 's  antithesis,  as  she  evidently  is,  would  have  done  so 
much  for  everybody!" 

Dane  answered  nothing.  One  cannot  rebuke  the  man 
one  owes  one's  life  to.  Ormond,  however,  had  not 
finished  with  the  subject. 

"You  crawled  off  your  cot  in  delirium  one  night,  and 
I  found  you  groping  among  some  papers  scattered  from 
your  pocket-book  about  the  floor,"  he  said.  "It  re- 
quired the  assistance  of  two  Krooboys  to  induce  you  to 
lie  down  again,  and  Miss  Castro  helped  me  to  pick  up  the 
papers.  I,  however,  found  this  among  them  first,  and 
considered  it  well  to  take  charge  of  it  in  the  meantime. 
Miss  Castro,  you  have  heard,  made  an  excellent  nurse." 


TEMPTATION  115 

Dane  felt  that  the  surgeon  noticed  the  way  his  fingers 
tightened  on  the  little  photograph  handed  him;  but  the 
man  went  on,  with  a  smile: 

"Your  sister,  persumably,  for  one  could  not  help 
glancing  at  the  picture.  Still,  I  can't  flatter  you  by 
saying  that  I  recognize  a  family  likeness.  Therefore — I 
kept  it  aside." 

Dane  thanked  him,  and  Ormond  answered  lightly: 

"The  rest  of  the  papers  Miss  Castro  returned  to  the 
pocket-book.  All  you  have  to  do  now  is  to  lie  still  and 
recover." 

"I  will  try,"  Dane  said.     "When  can  I  start  again?" 

Ormond  pointed  out  through  the  window  toward  the 
sea. 

"In  a  week,  if  you  are  prudent — in  fact,  the  sooner  you 
start  in  that  direction  the  wiser  you  will  be.  This  coun- 
try is  not  healthy  for  full-blooded  Englishmen  of  your 
description.  If  you  march  inland  again,  cable  anybody 
interested  to  double  your  life  insurance." 

Dane  made  a  negatory  gesture,  but  Ormond  antici- 
pated his  answer. 

"Of  course,  I  hardly  expected  you  would  take  good 
advice,  but  it  was  my  duty  to  give  it.  Just  now  I'll 
leave  you  to  your  own  resources,  because  Dom  Pedro  is 
waiting  with  the  chessmen  below.  Most  gentlemanly 
old  rascal,  and  you  are  indebted  to  him;  but  I  wouldn't 
tell  him  too  much  respecting  the  supposititious  treasure 
you  rambled  about  if  I  were  you.  Henceforward  you  will 
have  to  get  better  in  your  own  way,  because  word 
has  just  been  sent  me  that  my  niggers  are  dying  by 
dozens." 

He  went  out,  and  left  Dane  staring  at  the  photograph 
in  his  hand.  Although  not  improved  by  long  exposure  to 


116  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

tropic  heat,  or  the  dampness  of  the  African  climate,  it 
had  been  a  good  portrait  of  Lilian  Chatterton,  and  the 
eyes  that  looked  out  from  the  faded  paper  seemed  to 
challenge  the  man.  On  inspecting  the  dim  picture  later 
he  decided  it  must  have  been  because  he  remembered 
them  so  well.  They  were  clear  and  searching,  honest 
above  all  things,  but,  as  it  were,  demanding  equal  sincer- 
ity from  whoever  looked  into  them;  and  though  perhaps 
this  was  due  to  the  observer's  fancy,  the  wholeface seemed 
to  possess  a  spiritual  beauty.  Dane,  however,  was 
certainly  a  little  light-headed  still,  for  as  he  gazed  the 
face  grew  scornful. 

To  most  Europeans  in  that  country  there  comes  a 
time  of  mental  weakness  and  black  dejection,  and  Dane 's 
courage  had  melted  before  the  fever  which  left  him  un- 
stable as  water,  and  fanciful  as  a  child.  Thus  it  was  that, 
in  a  sudden  access  of  bitterness,  he  slipped  the  picture 
back  into  its  case.  Lilian,  he  decided,  had  cruelly  mis- 
judged him,  and  now  doubtless  enjoyed  the  sunny  side  of 
life  in  the  cool  British  air,  careless  of  the  fact  that  for  her 
sake  he  risked  life  and  reason  in  the  pestilential  steam  of 
Africa. 

There  was  a  rustle  of  draperies,  and  Bonita  Castro 
swept  into  the  room  with  the  grace  of  movement  and 
carriage  which  characterizes  her  mother's  race.  There 
was,  however,  nothing  spiritual  about  Miss  Castro's 
beauty,  which  was  of  the  flesh  and  of  the  glowing  south, 
appealing  to  the  senses,  delighting  the  eye;  and  Dane's 
pulse  throbbed  a  little  faster  as  she  came  toward  him  with 
a  low  cry  of  pleasure.  It  was  the  first  time  he  had  risen 
from  his  trestle  cot  in  the  adjoining  room.  Stooping, 
she  held  toward  him  a  great  cluster  of  the  spotless  African 
lilies — which,  scented  ambrosially,  spring  up  wherever 


TEMPTATION  117 

decay  is  rankest — then  sank  with  lithe  gracefulness  into 
a  chair  near  his  side. 

"It  is  very  good  to  see  you  better,  Don  Ilton,"  she 
said. 

"It  is  the  result  of  your  kindness,  senorita.  Unfor- 
tunately, I  don't  know  how  to  thank  you " 

"Then  you  will  not  try."  Miss  Castro  raised  a  re- 
straining hand.  "We  do  not  leave  the  sick  to  die.  Even 
if  it  had  been  another,  there  is  always  enjoined  on  us  the 
charity." 

Dane  had  lost  his  sense  of  humor,  and  just  then  Bonita 
Castro  looked  all  ministering  angel,  and  his  attitude 
expressed  rather  reverential  respect  than  personal  ad- 
miration, which,  it  is  possible,  did  not  please  the  lady  so 
well. 

"But  you  have  done  so  much  for  one  who  is  almost  a 
stranger,"  he  persisted. 

Miss  Castro's  mood  changed  swiftly,  and  spreading 
out  her  hands  with  a  gesture  of  amusement,  and  a  smile 
which  Dane  fancied  most  men  would  have  given  much 
to  win,  she  was  again  all  a  woman,  and  a  very  alluring 
one. 

"It  is  true  that  you  English  have  not  the  graceful 
speech.  Are  we,  then,  the  mere  stranger,  Don  Ilton? 
Carramba!  One  takes  pride  in  what  one  save  from  the 
fever,  and  it  was  on  my  lips  to  call  you  carino." 

Dane  had  acquired  sufficient  knowledge  of  Castilian 
in  South  America  to  appreciate  the  possible  significance 
of  the  substantive;  and  he  afterward  remembered  that 
he  was  not  wholly  displeased  with  it. 

"You  make  me  a  vain  man,  senorita,"  he  said  lightly. 

Miss  Castro  laughed  again,  and  Dane  lay  silent  for  a 
while. 


118  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

"I  am  the  more  indebted  to  your  care  because  every 
day  is  precious,  and  I  must  rejoin  my  comrade  as  soon  as 
possible,"  he  said  at  last. 

The  damask  warmth  deepened  just  a  trifle  in  his 
companion 's  cheek. 

"You  two  still  go  on  into  the  forest — why?"  she  asked. 

" Because  I  am  a  poor  man,  and,  as  you  have  guessed, 
my  comrade  believes  there  is  treasure  waiting  up  yonder." 

Bonita  Castro  smiled  scornfully,  and  answered  him 
with  the  assurance  of  one  stating  a  definite  fact. 

"The  Senor  Maxwell  will  never  bring  gold  out  of  the 
Leopards'  country.  Two  white  men  have  try  already 
and,  both  of  them,  they  die.  You  must  not  go  back  there, 
Don  Ilton,  nor  let  your  comrade  go,  though  I  know  he  is 
a  very  clever  and  fearless  man." 

"How  do  you  know  that?" 

Dane  found  it  hard  to  conceal  his  astonishment  at  her 
tranquil  answer: 

"  I  try  if  he  is  fearless  on  board  the  steamer.  I  can  use 
the  pistol  well." 

"It  is  fortunate  you  did  not  test  my  courage  in  the 
same  fashion.  But  was  there  not  a  third  man?" 

Miss  Castro's  fingers  closed  viciously,  and  the  ques- 
tioner experienced  an  instinctive  shrinking  as  he  saw  the 
hatred  in  her  deep  black  eyes. 

"The  third  was  not  a  white  man,  though  he  call  him- 
self so,"  she  said,  with  a  quietness  that  was  ominous. 
"Maldito  sea  el  perro!  To-day  again  he  infect  this 
factory." 

Dane  could  not  help  feeling  that,  unless  the  gentleman 
were  prudent,  he  might  have  cause  to  regret  his  visit  to 
the  factory.  He  was  inclined  to  admire  high-spirited 
women,  but  Miss  Castro  looked  more  than  dangerous 


TEMPTATION  119 

just  then;  though  Dane  learned  afterward  that  her  hatred 
was  justifiable. 

Following  her  glance,  he  saw  a  short  and  very  sallow- 
faced  gentleman,  neatly  dressed  in  spotless  duck,  cross 
the  compound  below  and  disappear  into  the  salt  shed, 
evidently  in  search  of  Dom  Pedro.  There  was  nothing 
particularly  noticeable  about  him;  but  another  taller 
figure,  draped  in  blue  and  white  cotton  and  wearing  a 
crimson  turban,  followed,  and  squatted  in  the  hot  dust 
outside  the  shed.  This  man  was  an  African,  but  lighter 
in  color  than  the  seaboard  tribes,  and  his  movements 
reminded  Dane  of  those  of  the  midnight  assassin.  He 
decided,  however,  that  the  resemblance  was  fanciful. 

' '  Is  that  the  person  you  mentioned  ? ' '  he  asked .  "  1 1  is 
evident  that  you  dislike  him.  May  I  ask  why?" 

Miss  Castro  appeared  to  consider,  and  then  answered 
frankly: 

"Why  should  I  not  tell  you?  You  are  muy  caballero, 
and  I  think,  good  friend  of  me.  He  was  partner  with 
my  father,  this  Victor  Rideau.  They  once  go  inland  to 
trade  with  an  Emir,  who  at  that  time  gather  much 
plunder  of  ivory,  and  perhaps  they  give  their  carrier  boy 
the  good  rifle  and  cartridge,  for  the  Emir  is  treacherous. 
He  is  very  bad  man,  and — pobre  padre  mio! — when 
Rideau  is  go  away  he  put  pressure  on  Dom  Pedro,  and 
demand  all  his  rifle  and  black  carrier  boy.  What  would 
you?  My  father  he  is  not  desire  his  throat  cut,  and  he 
agree.  The  Emir  write  safe  conduct  and  agreement, 
and  sent  him  back  with  ivory,  but  this  Rideau  he  guard 
the  scroll  in  Arabic,  and  now  always  demand  the  silver 
from  my  father  for  fear  he  denounce  him  to  the  authority. 
One  must  not  sell  the  black  boy,  and  there  is  heavy 
penalty  for  giving  the  negro  the  arm  of  precision." 


120  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

Dane  grasped  the  situation,  surmising  that  the  Emir 
in  question  was  one  who  had,  for  a  time,  successfully 
defied  both  British  and  French.  He  also  surmised  that 
the  Gallic  authorities  would  deal  stringently  with  who- 
ever had  supplied  the  Moslem  soldier  with  modern  weap- 
ons at  a  time  when  it  appeared  quite  possible  he  would 
even  march  upon  the  coast.  Still,  he  was  not  sure  that 
very  much  pressure  had  been  required  to  convince  Dom 
Pedro. 

Returning  to  her  almost  caressing  manner,  Miss  Cas- 
tro touched  his  arm: 

"  Why  you  need  that  gold?" 

"  Gold  is  generally  useful,  isn  't  it ?"  smiled  Dane.  "  It 
would  help  me  to  earn  a  little  more  than  my  bread  when 
I  go  back  to  England." 

Bonita  Castro  laughed,  and  then  grew  serious.  There 
was  a  light  in  her  dark  eyes,  and  her  voice  grew  deeper; 
and  it  was  only  because  it  appeared  necessary  that 
Dane  afterward  told  his  comrade  part  of  what  followed. 
Indeed,  there  was  little  to  relate,  but  much  to  be 
imagined. 

"Is  there  no  other  place  than  England,  when  all  the 
world  is  good?"  she  said.  "Is  not  this  much  better  than 
your  mud  and  snow,  and  the  sight  of  the  men  with  anxious 
faces  groping  through  the  fog?  Vaya!  You  men  of  the 
English  cities,  you  not  know  how  to  live." 

The  speaker  pointed  out  through  the  open  window, 
and  most  men  would  have  agreed  with  her  in  a  measure. 
If  the  beauty  of  the  fever  coast  is  that  of  a  whited  sep- 
ulcher,  it  is  a  sufficiently  alluring  region,  and  Dom  Pedro's 
factory  stood  high  and  healthily  upon  the  summit  of  a 
bluff.  Tall  palms  swaying  about  it  before  the  sea  breeze 
tossed  their  emerald  traceries  against  transparent  blue. 


TEMPTATION  121 

In  the  cottonwoods'  shadow  beyond  them  tall  white 
lilies  grew,  and  the  rollers  of  the  southern  ocean,  flaming 
dazzlingly,  dissolved  into  spouts  of  incandescence  upon 
a  crescent  of  silver  sand  below.  The  whole  scene  was 
flooded  with  light  and  color,  and  permeated  by  the  lan- 
guorous spell  of  the  tropics,  which  it  is  not  good  for  white 
men  to  linger  under. 

"It  is  all  very  beautiful,"  he  said;  "but  I  have  my 
bread  to  win." 

"You  are  very  modest,  Don  II ton.  Is  there  no  place 
for  such  as  you  in  Africa?  Now  I  know  one  who  would 
give  much — even  a  share  in  the  profits  of  several  factories 
— for  the  help  of  two  men  he  could  trust.  There  will  be 
more  gold  to  win  than  you  will  ever  find  in  the  Leopards' 
country;  and  there  will  be  the  excitement  you  hunger  for. 
The  man  who  needs  the  assistance  has  a  cunning  enemy. 
Will  you  not  listen  when  again  he  speaks  to  you?" 

Miss  Castro  leaned  slightly  forward. 

"It  is  the  life  you  English  long  for.  There  would  be 
adventure;  much  profit,  I  think,  too,  and — for  that  you 
like  also — an  enemy.  He  is  bad  enemy  of — me.  This 
England  of  yours  is  far  off,  and  the  wise  man  he — is  it 
not  so? — takes  gratefully  what  the  good  saints  send  him. 
Is  it  not  enough,  Don  Ilton?" 

Dane  was  not  a  vain  man,  but  there  was  a  subtle  in- 
flection in  the  woman 's  voice  which  suggested  an  ampli- 
fication of  the  meaning  of  her  last  words.  England  cer- 
tainly seemed  very  far  away,  Maxwell's  project  a  mad 
one;  and  Dane  remembered  that  the  woman  for  whose 
sake  he  had  joined  in  it  had  been  ready  to  think  ill  of  him. 
His  companion  was  very  alluring,  he  was  weak  in  mind 
and  body,  very  grateful  to  one  who  had  saved  his  life  for 
him,  and  loath  to  resume  the  burden  which  was  part  of 


THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

his  birthright  as  a  civilized  Englishman.  A  word,  even 
a  gesture,  would,  it  seemed,  smooth  out  many  difficulties, 
and,  shaking  off  responsibility,  he  might  henceforward 
live  for  the  day  only;  but  though  intoxicated  by  the  spell 
of  the  tropics  and  the  eyes  of  his  companion,  Dane  had  a 
memory,  and  he  realized  that  he  stood  on  the  brink  of  a 
declivity.  He  had  seen  the  end  of  other  Britons  who, 
selling  their  birthright  for  a  few  years'  indulgence,  sank 
beyond  the  level  of  the  beasts.  The  face  of  a  country- 
woman, no  longer  cold  and  disdainful,  but  innocent  and 
gentle,  rose  up  before  him;  and  the  struggle  ended. 

"  It  is  so  much  that  I  do  not  deserve  it,"  he  said  humbly, 
answering  her  question.  "I  must  accomplish  the  pur- 
pose which  brought  me  here,  and  then  go  back  to  Eng- 
land. Nothing  would  turn  back  my  comrade." 

Miss  Castro  did  not  speak  for  a  few  moments,  but 
Dane  felt  that  she  understood  more  than  he  had  said. 
Then  she  looked  at  him  steadily. 

"You  are  a  strange  people,  but,  go  when  you  will,  God 
go  with  you,  Don  Ilton.  Now,  at  least  from  my  hands, 
you  will  take  the  medicine." 

Dane's  hand  trembled  as  he  held  it  out  for  the  glass, 
for  the  struggle  had  left  its  mark  on  him;  but  he  felt  in- 
clined to  resent  this  climax,  which  appeared  grotesquely 
ludicrous.  Nevertheless,  he  duly  swallowed  the  medi- 
cine, and  resisted  an  inexplicable  impulse  which  prompted 
him  to  smash  the  glass.  Then,  with  a  wondrous  unfold- 
ing of  filmy  draperies,  his  companion  rose  languidly,  and, 
it  seemed  to  Dane,  melted  out  of  the  room.  Almost 
simultaneously  the  crouching  figure  in  the  dusty  com- 
pound rose  and  vanished  too. 

Dane  decided  that  it  would  be  well  to  gather  strength 
with  all  possible  celerity,  and  leave  the  factory  as  soon 


TEMPTATION  123 

as  he  was  fit  to  travel  in  a  hammock.  Accordingly,  in 
spite  of  the  protests  of  Dom  Pedro,  who,  after  repeating 
in  definite  form  the  offer  made  by  his  daughter,  found 
him  supplies  and  carriers,  he  presently  took  his  leave, 
and  shook  hands  with  Miss  Castro  beside  the  waiting 
hammock  at  the  compound  gate.  Her  manner  had  been 
a  shade  more  reserved  of  late,  but  she  spoke  with  friendly 
earnestness  when  she  laid  in  his  hand  a  tiny  object 
wrought  in  silver  and  ivory. 

"You  will  take  this  for  what  you  call  a  keep-a-sake, 
Don  Uton,"  she  said.  "There  is  always  peril  in  the  bush 
country,  and  it  was  given  my  mother  by  a  holy  man. 
It  has  the  virtue.  If  you  meet  Rideau  in  the  forest, 
remember  he  is  my  enemy  and  beware  of  him.  And  now, 
sefior,  the  good  saints  keep  you." 

Dane  bent  over  the  little  olive-tinted  fingers,  then 
Amadu  helped  him  into  the  hammock,  and  presently 
Dom  Pedro's  factory  had  faded  to  a  white  blur  against 
the  sparkling  sea. 

As  he  journeyed  northward  Dane  had  much  to  ponder 
over.  He  regretted  that  he  had  been  unable  to  secure  a 
closer  view  of  Rideau  or  his  dusky  follower.  He  fancied 
he  once  heard  the  Frenchman's  voice  raised  angrily  in  an 
altercation  with  Dom  Pedro;  but  he  could  learn  nothing 
about  the  tall  negro,  who  had  vanished  mysteriously. 
When  the  journey  was  almost  accomplished,  and  he  was 
recovering  strength  again,  there  was  added  another  sub- 
ject for  consideration.  Searching  for  the  map  Maxwell 
had  given  him,  he  failed  to  find  it;  but,  after  the  first 
shock  of  dismay  had  passed,  he  was  almost  thankful  that 
time  and  distance  prevented  his  returning  to  the  factory 
in  search  of  it.  Dane,  remembering  the  surgeon's  nar- 
rative, felt  himself  unequal  to  the  task  of  asking  Miss 


124  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

Castro  what  she  had  done  with  it.  He  pushed  on,  hop- 
ing for  the  best,  and  that  Maxwell  might  not  ask  too 
many  questions. 

Maxwell,  when  he  heard  the  news,  sat  silent  for  sev- 
eral minutes. 

"We  are  not  beginning  well,"  he  then  said  gravely, 
"but  that  is  perhaps  not  material.  It  seems  to  me  that 
the  future  of  the  mine  will  be  settled  when  we  meet 
Monsieur  Rideau  and  his  lieutenant,  as  I  think  we  will. 
Of  course  it  is  no  use  asking  where  you  lost  the  map." 

Dane  recognized  the  significance  of  the  last  sentence, 
and  answered  accordingly. 

"If  I  had  possessed  that  knowledge!  should  have  re- 
turned and  found  it.  I  have  reasons  for  believing  it  was 
in  my  pocket-book  when  I  left  the  factory." 

Maxwell  glanced  at  him  keenly  and  smiled. 

"After  what  you  told  me,  I  suppose  one  could  expect 
nothing  else  from  you,"  said  he. 


CHAPTER  X 


OOME  time  after  Dane's  departure,  a  smartly  uni- 
•^  formed  hammock  train  approached  Dom  Pedro's 
factory.  That  worthy  ceased  his  leisurely  pacing  up 
and  down  the  veranda,  and  watched  the  bearers  wind 
out  from  the  steamy  shadow  with  ill-concealed  anxiety, 
hoping  that  he  might  be  mistaken.  Then  as  they 
came  on  at  a  steady  trot  with  the  poles  of  the  lurching 
hammock  upon  their  woolly  crowns,  he  stamped  on  the 
flooring;  and  even  a  sleepy  Krooboy  started  at  his  vivid 
maledictions.  There  was  no  longer  room  for  doubt 
that  he  was  about  to  be  honored  by  a  visit  from  his 
former  partner,  Monsieur  Victor  Rideau,  and  it  was 
very  evident  that  Dom  Pedro  was  not  pleased  to  see 
him.  His  sister,  a  portly  lady,  of  doubtful  age,  sat  in  a 
shady  corner  of  the  veranda,  but  she  passed  much  of  her 
time  in  Africa  in  peaceful  slumber,  and  was  now  asleep 
as  usual — or  appeared  so. 

"It  is  too  hot  for  anger,  father,"  a  voice  said;  and 
Dom  Pedro,  turning,  saw  his  daughter  leaning  languidly 
over  the  balustrade.  She,  too,  was  watching  the  ham- 
mock with  a  curious  expression. 

"There  is  good  cause!"  Dom  Pedro  answered,  cutting 
short  his  flow  of  expletives.  "This  Rideau  comes  an- 
other time  to  torment  me.  Why  is  it  that  when  so  many 
honest  men  die  up  yonder  this  one  should  always  come 
back  safely?" 

125 


126  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

"He  will  not  always  do  so.  Some  day  he,  too,  will 
be  lost  in  the  forest,"  said  Bonita  quietly;  and  the  man 
glanced  at  her  with  hope  in  his  eyes,  for  several  of  his 
daughter's  predictions  had  curiously  been  fulfilled. 
This  may  have  been  due  to  coincidence,  or  a  shrewd 
calculation  of  probabilities;  but  Dom  Pedro,  having 
lived  long  in  a  land  where  occult  influences  are  believed 
in,  was  not  free  from  superstition. 

"I  would  send  half,  or  at  least  a  third,  of  all  I  have, 
to  the  hospital  in  Lisboa  if  that  were  so,"  he  declared. 
"Nina,  you  speak  as  though  you  knew." 

Bonita  laughed  a  little,  though  there  was  anxiety  in 
her  face. 

"Padre,  one  might  doubt  the  efficacy  of  such  a  bribe. 
Perhaps  I  do.  It  is  money  he  wants,  as  usual?" 

"Yes."  There  was  a  certain  hesitation  in  the  man's 
answer  which  did  not  escape  his  daughter.  "It  is,  of 
course,  the  silver,  and  I  have  not  much  to  give  him. 
You  have  no  regard  for  this  Rideau,  nina?" 

Bonita's  face  was  a  study.  Anger,  loathing,  and  the 
faintest  trace  of  fear  were  stamped  upon  it. 

"Regard!     I  have  only  hatred  for  el  perro!" 

The  emphasis  on  the  last  word  was  significant: 
while  it  means  simply  dog,  and  is  used  on  occasion  to 
designate  a  person  jestingly,  the  Castilian  can,  by 
change  of  inflection,  make  it  imply  a  rabid  cur  of  the 
lowest  degree;  and  Bonita  used  the  epithet  in  that 
manner. 

Dom  Pedro  raised  his  shoulders,  and  drew  in  his 
breath.  He  was  slightly  afraid  of  his  daughter;  but, 
unfortunately  for  them  both,  he  was  more  afraid  of 
Rideau,  and  he  did  not  look  at  her  when  he  spoke  again. 

"It  is  strange  the  Senor  Dane  did  not  return  for  the 


RIDEAU'S  BARGAIN  127 

book  he  left,  since  it  shows  the  path  through  the  forests 
of  Shaillu's  country,  and  he  cannot  find  his  way 
without  it." 

Bonita  smiled  upon  him  pityingly. 

"You  do  not  know  those  men  as  I  do.  They  plan 
all  from  the  beginning  and  leave  nothing  to  chance. 
The  Senor  Maxwell  is  a  man  of  system,  and  he  will 
have  safe  in  his  memory  all  the  book  could  tell  him." 

"They  are  a  curious  people,"  observed  Dom  Pedro 
dryly.  "One  of  those  two,  however,  was  surely  a 
trifle  blind." 

A  faint  trace  of  color  crept  into  Bonita' s  face. 

"It  is  time  for  you  to  receive  your  guest,"  she  said. 

Dom  Pedro  did  so  with  the  utmost  cordiality,  his 
hat  in  his  hand,  and  the  two  men — one  of  whom 
despised  the  other,  who  feared  and  hated  him — ex- 
pressed their  mutual  delight  at  the  meeting  with  great 
effusiveness.  Bonita  Castro  watched  them  meanwhile 
from  a  green  latticed  window,  and  shivered  a  little, 
though  the  day  was  as  hot  as  it  usually  is  at  that  season 
in  West  Africa.  She  slipped  her  fingers  under  the  laces 
at  her  breast,  and  her  face  was  not  attractive  when  they 
touched  a  little  piece  of  wrought  silver.  It  was  not  a 
mere  adornment,  for  there  was  a  slender  blade  of  steel 
attached  to  it.  Again  she  said,  with  an  intensity  of 
detestation:  "Elperro!" 

Dom  Pedro  played  chess  and  discoursed  upon  the 
shortcomings  of  their  rulers  with  his  guest  all  afternoon, 
and  the  five  o'clock  comida  had  been  eaten  before  either 
hinted  that  Rideau  could  have  any  possible  motive  for 
his  visit  beyond  the  pleasure  of  seeing  his  former  partner. 
Time  has  no  great  value  to  men  of  Latin  extraction  in 
the  tropics;  and  it  is  possible  that  one  of  them  found 


128  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

pleasure  in  prolonging  the  other's  anxiety.  At  last, 
when  they  sat  out  on  the  veranda,  the  visitor,  lighting 
a  maize  husk  cigarette,  thrust  his  wineglass  away. 

"It  is  always  a  gratification  to  see  my  old  friend 
Dom  Pedro,  and  I  have  traveled  a  long  way  to  give 
myself  that  pleasure,"  he  observed;  and  his  host, 
knowing  how  much  this  was  worth,  braced  himself  to 
meet  what  should  follow.  " Being  here,  there  is,  how- 
ever, a  little  affair  we  can  discuss  together.  I  have  an 
opportunity  for  a  small  investment  to  lay  before  you." 

"I  am  honored,  but  trade  is  very  bad,  and  silver 
scanty,"  Dom  Pedro  said  hastily.  "I  have  received 
no  profits  yet  on  the  last  venture." 

Rideau  spread  out  his  palms  deprecatingly. 

"They  are  very  dishonest  men  up  yonder  in  the  bush, 
as  you,  my  friend,  should  know,  and  have  robbed  me 
shamefully;  while  it  was  but  an  hour  since  I  rejoiced  at 
your  prosperity.  I  saw  the  cloth  and  gin  sheds  empty 
— and  they  were  full  not  long  ago." 

Dom  Pedro  groaned  inwardly,  but  attempted  a  show 
of  resolution. 

"I  repeat  that  trade  is  bad.  It  is,  I  fear,  impossible 
to  oblige  even  you." 

Rideau  laughed  a  little,  but  his  merriment  was 
akin  to  mockery. 

"I  can  only  hope  you  are  mistaken,  and  this  time 
there  will  be  a  profit.  There  is  also  another  affair  I 
would  discuss  with  you.  I  am  a  man  with  a  conscience, 
and  something  we  are  concerned  in  up  in  the  bush 
country  troubles  me.  It  is  told  me  that  these  trouble- 
some English  make  protest  with  the  Administration 
that  when  the  Emir  invaded  their  dominions  his  men 
carried  good  rifles  which  could  only  have  been  obtained 


RIDEAU'S  BARGAIN  129 

from  this  colony.  The  Captain  Oger  stated  publicly 
that  it  is  a  stain  on  the  national  honor,  and  there  will 
be  strict  inquiry.  I  am  a  good  friend  of  Dom  Pedro, 
but  first  of  all  patriotic  Frenchman,  me." 

There  was  no  need  to  speak  more  plainly,  because 
Dom  Pedro  understood  him  thoroughly,  and  inquired 
forthwith  the  lowest  sum  that  would  set  his  visitor's 
uneasy  conscience  at  rest.  Rideau  promptly  named 
it;  and  the  Portuguese,  being  desirous  of  gaining  time, 
shook  his  head. 

"It  is  impossible.  I  also  have  considered  about 
those  rifles  often,"  he  said.  "Now  I  think  it  would  be 
better  for  me,  being  an  innocent  man,  to  explain  to  the 
Administration  how  the  Emir  robbed  me." 

Rideau  was  not  in  the  least  deceived,  for  he  smiled 
sardonically. 

"Is  it  not  a  little  late,  my  friend,  and  the  Command- 
ant is  a  most  suspicious  man.  It  is  possible  he  might 
not  believe  you,  and  it  is  not  permitted  to  arm  even 
one's  carriers  for  protection  with  rifles ;  while  there  is  in 
existence  a  scroll  signed  by  the  Emir  and  another  which 
shows  a  voluntary  sale.  But  you  say  what  I  ask  is 
impossible.  Well,  I'll  consider,  and  to-morrow  may 
make  a  more  feasible  offer.  The  last  time  I  came  you 
entertained  the  sick  comrade  of  the  Englishman  Max- 
well. He  has  not  given  you  any  information  about 
Niven's  mine?" 

"He  did  not,"  said  Dom  Pedro,  with  so  much  earnest- 
ness that  Rideau  did  not  believe  him,  and  dismissing 
the  subject,  airily  proposed  another  game  of  chess. 

The  next  morning,  Dom  Pedro,  being  perhaps  anxious 
to  postpone  the  evil  moment,  set  out  for  a  bush  vil- 
lage where  he  stated  he  had  business;  and  his  guest, 


130  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

feeling  sure  of  his  own  position,  was  not  wholly  sorry  to 
see  him  go.  It  would  allow  him  to  enjoy  Miss  Castro's 
society  undisturbed,  and  also,  if  circumstances  per- 
mitted, to  glance  through  the  books  in  her  father's 
office,  which  he  had  long  desired  to  do,  with  a  view  to 
discovering  how  far  the  man  might  be  taxed.  Dom 
Pedro  was  not  a  good  bookkeeper,  it  is  true,  but  his 
late  partner  understood  his  system,  or  rather  the  lack 
of  it. 

An  opportunity  did  not  present  itself  until  all  the 
occupants  of  the  factory  had  apparently  retired,  as 
usual,  to  sleep  in  the  coolest  place  they  could  find 
during  the  heat  which  follows  noon.  Rideau  slipped 
into  the  iron-roofed  room  where  Dom  Pedro  kept  his 
accounts.  As  it  happened,  however,  Bonita  was  rather 
more  wide-awake  than  usual,  and  shortly  afterward 
she  also  entered  the  office,  to  find  her  guest  glancing 
into  a  big  folio  with  evident  interest.  He  was  in  no 
way  disconcerted,  and  smiled  upon  her  affably. 

"There  was  a  difference  in  the  weight  of  the  last 
gums  I  sent  down,"  he  explained.  "I  would  find  the 
entry  before  I  speak  to  Dom  Pedro." 

Bonita  Castro  was  quick  of  wit. 

"Then,  as  I  help  my  father  with  the  accounts,  you 
will  give  me  the  details,"  she  said. 

Rideau's  inventive  genius  was  apparently  unequal  to 
the  task,  for  he  bowed  ceremoniously. 

"It  is  impossible  to  consider  any  question  of  business 
in  the  brightness  of  the  seiiorita's  presence." 

Miss  Castro  laughed. 

"You  have  my  full  permission.  Now,  as  regards 
this  gum?" 

Rideau  seated  himself  languidly. 


BIDEAU'S  BARGAIN  131 

"I  am  a  man  of  affairs,  but  I  have  also  sensibility, 
and  shall  I  trouble  the  senorita  about  a  bag  of  gum? 
To  touch  those  dusty  books  is  a  desecration  to  her 
fingers." 

"Still,  it  is  of  business  I  wish  to  talk  to  you,  and  you 
will  give  me  your  attention,  senor,"  said  the  girl.  "You 
have  the  power  to  cause  my  father  some  anxiety." 

Rideau  leaned  forward  a  little  in  his  chair. 

"It  is  true,  but  I  am  too  devoted  a  servant  of  the 
senorita' s  to  wish  to  do  so.  It  is  for  her  sake  I  have 
concealed  an  indiscretion  of  Dom  Pedro's  which  would 
excite  the  anger  of  the  Administration.  As  I  have 
said,  I  would  do  very  much  to  win  the  senorita's 
approval." 

"But  this  is  very  little,  and  Dom  Pedro  pays  you 
well,"  returned  the  girl.  "The  Commandant,  who 
is  not  a  friend  of  yours,  might  not  credit  your  story 
if  you  told  it  to  him." 

Rideau  smiled    significantly. 

"It  is  very  little  for  me  to  do  if  it  pleases  the  senorita; 
but  it  is  much  for  Dom  Pedro.  You  will  know  there  is 
provided  confiscation  and  banishment,  and  even  a  worse 
penalty,  for  selling  the  Indigene  modern  rifles,  and  I 
have  therefore  carefully  hidden  the  Emir's  agreement 
and  safe  conduct  made  in  the  Arabic  when  he  is  at 
war  with  this  colony.  It  is  misfortune  that  Dom 
Pedro  has  written  his  name  to  it." 

Bonita  Castro  felt  a  chill  run  through  her,  though  her 
face  was  calm.  The  man  had  shown  his  power  plainly, 
but  the  desire  in  his  eyes,  as  he  watched  her,  caused  her 
greater  uneasiness.  She  could,  she  fancied,  see  the 
African  nature  beneath  the  indifferent  veneer  of  civili- 
zation, and  she  trembled,  knowing  that  under  sufficient 


132  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

pressure  her  father  might  be  capable  of  selling  more  than 
forbidden  rifles.  Therefore,  even  if  she  had  no  other 
motive,  it  was  of  the  first  necessity  to  lessen  that 
power. 

"Such  generosity  should  not  go  unrewarded,"  she 
said.  "You  have  long  desired  the  gold  you  think  the 
Englishman  Niven  found,  but,  unless  I  help  you,  you 
will  never  discover  it.  Even  the  man  with  the  cross  on 
his  forehead  does  not  know  where  the  river  lies.  What 
would  you  give  for  a  map  showing  Niven' s  road  through 
the  Leopards'  country?  It  is  so  plain  that  a  child  could 
understand  it." 

Rideau's  eyes  glistened,  but  he  was  cautious. 

"There  is  only  one  man  who  can  have  such  a  book; 
and  I  know  he  would  never  part  with  it." 

Bonita  laughed. 

"Yes — the  Senor  Maxwell.  You  know  he  would  not 
part  with  it?  Then  you  have  tried  and  failed  to  obtain 
it  from  him?  The  Senor  Maxwell  is  a  very  clever  man. 
Nevertheless,  I  have  the  map.  Would  you  recognize 
that  it  was  genuine  if  I  showed  it  to  you?" 

Rideau  rose  carelessly,  and  strolled  toward  the  win- 
dow. There  was  nobody  on  that  side  of  the  veranda — 
the  compound  lay  empty  under  the  pitiless  heat  below, 
and  a  slumbrous  silence  pervaded  the  factory.  There 
was  a  change  in  him  when  he  turned  toward  the  girl,  who 
held  out  an  unfolded  paper  so  that  he  could  see  a  portion 
of  it.  The  man  was  usually  cunning,  but  it  was  not 
without  results  that  he  had  inherited  a  strain  of  native 
blood,  and  now  the  instincts  of  the  savage  rose  upper- 
most. Brate  passion  and  unreasoning  avarice  were 
stamped  on  his  face.  He  had  hitherto  made  his  admi- 
ration for  the  girl  very  plain,  and  had  accepted  her 


RIDEAU'S  BARGAIN  133 

rebuffs  with  the  serenity  of  one  strong  enough  to  wait. 
Now,  however,  his  companion  conceived  it  possible  that 
he  intended  to  retain  his  hold  upon  Dom  Pedro  and 
secure  the  map  as  well.  It  was  her  person  he  desired, 
and  whether  her  good  will  accompanied  it  or  not  was 
probably  immaterial. 

"The  sun  has  dazzled  my  eyes,  and  you  will  give  it 
to  me  for  near  examination,"  he  said,  and  his  voice  was 
husky.  When  she  made  a  gesture  of  negation,  he  halted 
close  in  front  of  her  with  the  veins  on  his  forehead 
swollen,  and  one  big,  dusky  hand  partly  raised. 

Bonita  Castro  had  not  studied  the  native  character 
profitlessly,  and  she  knew  that  very  little  was  required 
to  cause  those  fingers — and  they  were  the  fingers  of  a 
negro — to  fasten  upon  her  shoulders,  or  even  about  her 
throat;  but  she  had  arranged  accordingly.  She  clapped 
her  hands  sharply,  and  Rideau  let  his  arm  drop  to  his 
side  when  a  patter  of  bare  feet  drew  nearer  along  the 
veranda.  A  huge  muscular  Krooman  in  white  uniform 
stood  in  the  doorway,  and  the  girl  smiled  a  little. 

"Call  Andres,  Pobrecito.  Tell  him  to  bring  the  wine 
and  the  last  of  the  steamer  ice;  but  stay  there  on  the 
veranda  yourself.  I  may  want  you.  It  is  so  hot  that 
you  will  not  refuse  if  I  offer  you  refreshment,  sefior?" 
she  said. 

Rideau's  [lips  twitched  a  little,  and  his  face  was 
greasy,  but  the  look  of  the  African  had  faded  from  it, 
and  he  might  have  passed  for  a  native  of  southern 
France  when  he  bowed. 

"Who  could  refuse  anything  offered  by  the  seiiorita?" 

The  wine  was  brought,  and  the  man,  who  a  few  mo- 
ments earlier  might  have  posed  for  a  study  of  avarice 
and  passion  debased  to  ferocity,  smiled  as  he  compared 


134  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

his  companion's  eyes  to  the  sparkling  ocean  when  he 
raised  his  glass.  Then,  while  the  big  negro  squatted 
just  outside  the  doorway,  Miss  Castro  read  extracts 
from  the  notes  on  the  back  of  the  map. 

"This  would  be  very  valuable  to  a  bold  man,"  she 
said.  "What  would  you  give  for  it?  It  is  no  use  offer- 
ing a  small  thing." 

"I  would  give" — the  man  hesitated — "I  would  even 
give  the  agreement  in  Arabic  signed  by  Dom  Pedro  and 
the  Emir!" 

"Then  it  is  yours,"  said  Bonita  Castro.  "Now  it  is 
too  hot  for  further  business,  even  the  underweighed 
gum.  You  may  sit  there  and  tell  me  of  your  adven- 
tures in  the  bush  country." 

Rideau  had  a  large  share  of  vanity,  inherited  from 
both  parents,  and  he  was  in  no  wise  reluctant;  if  Miss 
Castro  failed  to  believe  all  he  told  her  she  did  not  say  so. 
Indeed,  she  made  the  man  feel  that  she  accepted  him  as 
a  hero,  and  fooled  him  so  tactfully  that  he  was  several 
times  on  the  brink  of  making  confidences  which  might 
have  jeopardized  his  plans.  Fortunately  for  himself, 
however,  he  reflected  in  time,  and  did  not  do  so.  When 
at  last  he  withdrew,  Miss  Castro  walked  somewhat 
limply  to  her  room,  and  sank  down  into  a  basket  chair  in 
the  manner  of  one  who  has  undergone  a  heavy  nervous 
strain.  Her  aunt  found  her  there  presently,  and  placed 
a  hand  caressingly  on  her  shoulder  as  she  bent  over 
her. 

"This  Rideau  is  a  bad  man.  He  has  terrified  you?" 
she  said  compassionately. 

"No."  The  girl's  voice  trembled,  though  she  smiled. 
"No,  I  hardly  feared  the  cur.  I  have  sent  him  to  his 
own  destruction.  It  is  my  own  sin  I  fear.  I  have 


RIDEAU'S  BARGAIN  135 

betrayed  the  man  who  trusted  me;  but  still  I  do  not 
think  he  will  suffer  from  my  treachery." 

The  elder  lady  shook  off  her  somnolent  expression, 
and  nodded  sagaciously. 

"The  big  Englishman  who  was  sick? — I  compre- 
hend," she  said.  "I  do  not  ask  questions;  but  take 
comfort  if  it  was  for  your  father,  niiia.  Also,  that 
Englishman  is  not  clever,  but  he  is  very  stubborn  and 
strong,  and  I  do  not  think  it  will  be  well  for  Rideau  if  he 
interferes  with  him." 

When  Miss  Castro  found  Dom  Pedro  alone  in  his 
sweltering  office  that  night  she  said  to  him:  "Here  is  a 
present,  father.  I  have  drawn  the  dog's  teeth." 

Dom  Pedro's  eyes  glistened  as  he  clutched  at  the  scroll 
handed  him,  then,  though  he  first  burned  it  over  the 
lamp,  his  forehead  grew  furrowed,  and  his  jaw  fell. 

"The  cur  may  have  other  teeth  left,  and  is  of  the 
blood  of  the  African,"  he  said.  "Twice  I  repulsed  him 
when  he  spoke  of  marriage.  Little  one,  you  have  not 
sold  yourself  for  this?" 

The  man  positively  quivered  with  impatience,  but 
the  girl  laughed. 

"No.  I  have  sold  him  the  blind  Englishman. 
Rideau  has  the  map  that  belonged  to  the  Senor  Max- 
well." 

"Thanks  be  to  heaven!"  Dom  Pedro  exclaimed 
piously;  but  his  sallow  face  grew  grave  again.  "It  is 
a  great  deliverance,  but  it  is  not  well  to  make  one's 
profit  from  the  blood  of  white  men.  This  Rideau, 
who  is  very  cunning,  will  follow  and  bring  disaster  upon 
the  Englishmen  up  yonder.  Already,  I  have  suffered 
many  things  because  of  the  black  men  the  Emir  stole 
from  me." 


136  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

Bonita's  eyes  shone. 

"You  do  not  see  clearly,  father,  or  know  the  manner  of 
those  other  men.  What  is  it  to  me  if  these  strangers  do 
not  find  the  gold — but  I  would  not  have  them  die.  I 
have  been  in  their  country,  and  if  the  cur  dog  follows, 
plotting  treachery,  as  I  think  he  will,  the  Senor  Maxwell 
will  surely  kill  him." 

"Ojala!  Heaven  send  it  so,"  murmured  Dom  Pedro, 
and  would  have  embraced  his  daughter,  but  that, 
shrinking  from  him,  she  slipped  out  into  the  moonlit 
veranda.  The  little  olive-faced  gentleman  stood  staring 
at  the  papers  before  him,  and  hoping  that  it  might  come 
about  as  she  had  predicted. 


CHAPTER  XI 

THE  TRAIL  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

MAXWELL  expressed  his  approval  of  the  recruits 
Dane  brought  in,  for  Dom  Pedro  had  chosen  well. 
They  were  sturdy,  woolly-haired  Kroomen  from  Liberia 
who  had  gained  some  experience  of  forest  warfare  in 
petty  skirmishes  with  the  troops  of  the  black  republic. 
It  is  noticeable  that  the  untamed  African  cherishes 
little  love  for  his  partly  civilized  brother.  When  he 
had  harangued  them,  the  two  white  men  sat  talking 
together. 

"I  would  give  a  good  deal  to  know  what  is  in  Dom 
Pedro's  mind  just  now,"  said  Maxwell.  "It  is  quite 
possible  that  the  offer  he  made  you  was  genuine.  There 
is,  if  one  may  say  it  without  appealing  to  your  vanity,  a 
certain  air  of  solidity  and  force  about  you  which  might 
appeal  to  a  man  of  his  type  who  could  supply  all  the 
finesse  necessary — and  who  possesses  a  troublesome 
enemy.  The  map  would  in  any  case  be  of  little  use 
to  Dom  Pedro,  who  would  never  venture  into  the 
Leopards'  country;  and  I  hardly  fancy  he  would  give 
it  to  Rideau.  In  the  meantime  our  own  program  is 
clear.  We  start  again  at  sunrise  tomorrow." 

"Are  you  not  taking  too  much  for  granted  when  you 
assume  that  Dom  Pedro  has  the  map?"  asked  Dane; 
and  Maxwell  smiled  enigmatically  but  did  not  answer. 

A  few  days  later  they  halted  at  sunset  beside  a  stream 
which,  contrary  to  the  custom  of  most  African  rivers, 

137 


138  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

flowed  clear  as  crystal  over  yellow  sand.  Wooded  hills 
whose  hollows  were  filled  with  drifting  steam  sloped 
steeply  upward  from  the  opposite  bank,  and  the  black 
shadow  of  a  few  palms  lengthened  across  the  grass 
behind  the  waiting  men.  There  was  nothing  remark- 
able about  the  river  or  its  surroundings;  but  heathen, 
missionary  convert,  and  dusky  Moslem  alike  shrank 
back  murmuring  from  its  bank. 

"This  is  our  Rubicon,  and  beyond  it  lies  the  Leopards' 
country,"  said  Maxwell.  "It  is  not  a  very  imposing 
stream,  but  I  believe  no  white  man  has  ever  crossed  it 
without  suffering  from  his  rashness,  since  the  days  of  the 
early  Portuguese.  Something  has  evidently  startled 
the  boys.  As  I  partly  expected,  here  it  is." 

Maxwell  pointed  to  a  slender  wand  set  up  beside  the 
bank.  A  tuft  of  reddened  rags  was  tied  to  it,  and 
beneath  them  hung  a  piece  of  sun-dried  clay  rudely 
modeled  into  the  resemblance  of  a  leopard. 

"I  would  rather  have  seen  fifty  men  with  flint-locks 
than  this  trumpery  thing,"  he  declared.  "You  don't 
quite  grasp  its  significance,  Hilton?  Well,  in  this  land 
anything  may  be  made  the  emblem  of  the  Ju-ju,  and 
that  is  the  insignia  of  a  powerful  one  I  have  alluded  to 
several  times  already." 

"I  could  never  understand  what  a  Ju-ju  is." 

"Very  few  white  men  do,  but  its  ministers  are  a  force 
to  reckon  with;  and  this  piece  of  clay  signifies  that  many 
unpleasant  things,  varying  from  slow  poisoning  to  death 
by  violence,  may  happen  to  the  man  who  disregards  it. 
You  can  see  that  the  boys  are  afraid  of  it." 

"We  can't  stay  here  forever  because  some  benighted 
heathen  has  tied  it  to  a  stick,"  expostulated  Dane. 
"Here's  a  challenge  to  the  powers  of  darkness.  Watch 


THE  TRAIL  OF  THE  LEOPARD       139 

and  try  to  understand,  you  boy!  If  them  thing  be 
no  fit  to  hurt  me,  it  can't  hurt  you.  That's  logic, 
or,  as  you  say,  the  Lord  he  give  me  sense  too  much, 
isn't  it?' 

The  eyes  of  the  spectators  grew  wide  with  horror  as, 
snapping  the  wand  across  his  knee,  he  next  crushed  the 
leopard  beneath  his  heel;  and  there  was  a  heavy  silence 
while  they  waited  to  see  what  would  follow  this  bold 
defiance  of  the  forest  deity.  So  real  was  their  terror, 
and  the  hush  so  impressive,  that  Dane  felt  his  own  heart 
beating  faster  than  it  generally  did,  and  when  he  laughed 
the  laugh  rang  hollow.  But  nothing  unusual  happened ; 
and  with  murmurs  of  relief  the  men  followed  him  as  he 
splashed  through  the  ford. 

"It  was  necessary,"  said  Maxwell  with  noticeable 
gravity.  "Nevertheless,  we  will  double  our  sentries 
henceforward,  and  recharge  our  filters.  There  is  no 
doubt  that  the  powers  of  darkness  will  take  up  your 
challenge." 

They  pitched  camp  among  the  cottonwoods  at  the 
mouth  of  a  ravine,  and,  when  they  had  eaten,  sat  for  a 
time  within  their  little  tent  poring  over  a  map  issued 
privately  for  the  use  of  French  officials.  Innumerable 
insects  dimmed  the  light  of  the  lamp  above  them,  and 
they  could  scarcely  see  the  lettering. 

"We  are  here,"  said  Maxwell,  laying  his  finger  on  the 
paper,  "on  the  threshold  of  what  the  niggers  call  the 
Leopards'  country,  which  is  marked  as  partly  explored 
territory,  with  this  patch  to  represent  the  dominions  of 
King,  or  headman,  Shaillu.  A  few  armed  expeditions 
have  traversed  it  farther  east,  and  found  it  thinly  peo- 
pled by  petty  tribes  hostile  to  Europeans,  while  nobody 
knows  much  about  Shaillu  except  that  he  abruptly  broke 


140  THE  LEAGUE  OP  THE  LEOPARD 

off  the  negotiations  he  once  began  with  the  authorities. 
That  showed  the  hand  of  his  priests,  and  brings  us  back 
to  the  Leopard  League." 

Dane  laid  down  his  damp  cigar,  and  listened  with  keen 
interest  as  Maxwell  explained. 

"As  you  have  heard,  secret  leagues  of  all  kinds  are 
common  in  this  country,  and  that  of  the  Leopard  is 
probably  one  of  the  most  powerful.  Its  priestly  leaders 
are  apparently  the  power  behind  the  throne  in  Shaillu's 
dominions,  and,  so  the  natives  say,  those  they  favor  with 
a  share  of  their  supernatural  qualities  can  render  them- 
selves invisible  or  take  the  shape  of  beasts.  Like  their 
namesake,  they  always  strike  at  night.  Dismissing  all 
idea  of  witchcraft,  you  can  take  very  ingenious  human 
cunning,  a  thorough  knowledge  of  poisoning,  and  no 
mean  strategic  skill,  for  granted.  Once  the  white  man 
settles  in  their  country  the  power  of  the  bush  magician 
must  decline;  and  the  deduction  you  can  draw  from 
that  should  justify  a  close  watch  to-night.  It  is  your 
turn  until  twelve  o'clock,  Hilton." 

Dane  found  it  a  somewhat  depressing  watch  when 
the  cooking  fires  had  died  out  and  the  sounds  which 
gather  depth  with  the  darkness  emphasized  the  hush 
of  the  forest.  There  was  nothing  visible  but  the  faint 
glimmer  of  the  lighted  tent,  which  suggested  a  huge 
Chinese  lantern  set  down  among  the  dripping  under- 
growth. Behind  it  loomed  dim  ghosts  of  trees.  Mois- 
ture fell  drumming  upon  the  tight-strained  canvas;  and 
at  intervals  some  beast  in  the  forest  sent  up  an  unearthly 
scream.  The  darkness  was  filled  with  the  scent  of  wood 
smoke  and  lilies,  and  thickened  by  wisps  of  drifting 
steam. 

The  time  dragged  by  slowly;  but  at  last  Dane  was 


THE  TRAIL  OF  THE  LEOPARD       141 

about  to  make  a  final  round,  when  a  stealthy  rustling 
held  him  rigidly  still,  save  that  his  left  hand  slid  farther 
along  the  rifle  barrel.  The  sound  ceased  and  began 
again,  and  it  became  certain  that  something  or  some- 
body was  crawling  toward  the  tent.  It  could  hardly  be 
one  of  the  carriers,  for  Maxwell  had  intimated  that  any 
man  found  wandering  in  the  darkness  would  promptly 
be  fired  upon.  Dane  could  feel  his  heart  throbbing,  but 
his  fingers  were  steady  on  the  cool  barrel  as  he  waited, 
realizing  instinctively  that  death  or  danger  in  some 
strange  shape  was  drawing  near.  Nevertheless  he  was 
silent,  fearing  to  rouse  the  camp  on  a  false  alarm,  and 
also  because  he  wished  to  make  certain  of  their  unseen 
enemy. 

For  a  space  of  a  few  seconds  there  was  no  sound 
at  all,  and  he  grew  the  more  uneasy,  knowing  that  the 
naked  bushman  learns  by  sheer  necessity  to  wriggle 
almost  silently  through  the  undergrowth.  Then  he 
found  it  hard  to  repress  a  cry  of  astonishment  as,  for  a 
moment,  a  monstrous  shape  was  silhouetted  against  the 
faintly  illuminated  canvas.  It  was  bulkier  than  a  man, 
and  though  it  stood  upright,  its  head  was  that  of  a 
beast.  Maxwell  was  clearly  in  danger,  there  was  no 
time  to  lose,  and,  pitching  up  the  rifle,  Dane  pressed  the 
trigger.  A  streak  of  red  fire  rent  the  darkness,  and  a 
spark  blew  into  his  eyes.  He  felt  the  jerk  of  the  barrel, 
and  then,  though  he  scarcely  heard  the  explosion,  he 
caught  a  thud  there  is  no  mistaking — the  sound  made 
by  the  impact  of  a  solid  bullet. 

As  he  snapped  down  the  lever  and  slid  home  another 
cartridge,  something  dim  and  shadowy  rushed  past,  and 
the  rifle  blazed  again.  Then  there  was  a  snapping  of 
undergrowth,  a  yell  from  a  sentry,  the  crash  of  a  Snider, 


142  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

and  the  camp  awoke  to  life.  Maxwell,  holding  up  a 
lamp,  sprang  half -dressed  from  the  tent,  black  men  rose 
out  of  the  shadows  clamoring  excitedly,  and  Dane's 
headman,  Monday,  stood  close  beside  him,  peering  into 
the  darkness  with  his  long  Snider  rifle  held  out  before 
him.  Monday  was  not  a  timid  man,  but  he  looked 
distinctly  uneasy  when  the  light  of  Maxwell's  lantern 
fell  upon  his  face. 

Dane  briefly  related  what  had  happened;  and  Max- 
well lowered  his  lantern. 

"The  Leopards  have  made  their  first  move,  and 
lost  a  man,  I  think,'7  he  said.  "Most  black  men  are 
able  to  carry  off  considerable  lead,  but  this  red  trail  on 
the  undergrowth  is  significant.  It  also  appears  quite 
probable  that  you  have  saved  my  life." 

Just  then,  there  was  a  shrill  scream  in  the  forest,  a 
scream  of  human  agony,  horrible  and  intense,  and  after- 
ward a  silence  that  could  be  felt. 

"Them  ghost  leopard  he  done  go  chop  some  boy!" 
exclaimed  Monday,  trembling  a  little.  "We  savvy 
fight  black  man,  sah,  but  not  them  debbil." 

"The  sound  rose  from  behind  the  tuft  of  palms," 
Maxwell  said  quietly.  "Take  six  of  your  best  men, 
Monday,  and  see  who  is  missing.  No — stay  where  you 
are,  Hilton!  It  is  advisable  to  break  them  in  to  this 
kind  of  thing." 

Monday  went  reluctantly,  and  returned  to  say  that 
one  of  the  sentries  and  his  gun  had  vanished  completely. 
Then  a  half-naked  man  with  a  matchet  burst  through  the 
wondering  group  which  had  gathered  about  the  pair, 
demanding  assistance  to  search  for  his  brother. 

Maxwell  glanced  at  him,  hesitated,  and,  while  Dane 
protested,  shook  his  head, 


THE  TRAIL  OF  THE  LEOPARD   143 

"  We  could  never  track  them,  even  in  broad  daylight; 
and  some  of  the  rescue  party  would  not  come  back," 
he  explained.  "By  this  time  the  poor  devil  is  certainly 
dead,  and  I  feel  convinced  that  we  shall  find  him  to- 
morrow without  searching.  Amadu,  tell  your  boys  to 
fire  on  any  man  trying  to  leave  the  camp." 

Maxwell  kept  watch  himself  henceforward,  and  Dane 
retired  to  the  tent,  resigned  though  far  from  contented. 
He  had  learned  that,  if  his  ways  were  a  trifle  autocratic, 
his  comrade  was  a  leader  who  could  be  trusted,  and 
though  he  longed  with  a  vindictive  yearning  to  search 
the  forest,  rifle  in  hand,  he  did  not  consider  it  judicious 
to  question  Maxwell's  authority. 

It  was  a  relief  when  morning  came,  and  somewhat 
silently  they  began  the  march  again.  The  path  wound 
up  a  ravine,  through  climbing  forest  that  rotted  as  it 
grew,  where  grotesque  and  ghostly  orchids  sprouted  from 
each  crumbling  bough,  and  there  was  scarcely  room  for 
two  men  abreast  in  the  rutted  trail.  It  had  been  worn 
deep  by  the  passage  of  naked  feet;  for  gum,  skins,  and 
a  little  ivory  came  down  on  the  heads  of  slave  trains 
out  of  Shaillu's  country. 

Maxwell,  with  a  few  picked  men,  led  the  way,  after 
giving  Dane  orders  not  to  follow  him  too  closely  with 
the  main  body;  but  the  latter  found  it  hard  to  restrain 
his  carriers,  who  desired  to  leave  the  site  of  the  camp  as 
far  behind  them  as  possible. 

Dane  had  lagged  a  little  behind  the  long  line  of  col- 
ored headgear,  cases  poised  aloft  on  woolly  crowns, 
white  draperies,  and  patches  of  sable  skin,  which 
wound  on  before  him  through  the  green  of  the  tangled 
jungle,  when  Maxwell's  voice  came  back  sharply. 

"Lead  your  boys  wide  into  the  bush,  Hilton!    Break 


144  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

through  for  several  hundred  yards,  and  send  them  on 
before  you.  Turn  back  and  rejoin  me  alone  when  you 
strike  the  trail  again!" 

It  was  done,  though  Dane  fell  over  an  ant-heap 
and  into  a  network  of  horrible  thorny  trailers  which 
tore  the  flesh  about  his  ankles.  Hurrying  back  along 
the  trail,  he  found  Maxwell  standing  behind  a  screen  of 
resplendent  creepers,  lighting  a  cigar  with  a  hand  that 
was  not  quite  steady.  His  eyes  were  positively  savage, 
and  a  patch  in  the  center  of  each  cheek  was  gray. 
Startled  as  Dane  was,  it  was  nevertheless  soothing  to 
find  that  his  comrade  shared  some,  at  least,  of  the 
weaknesses  of  their  common  humanity.  He  could  not 
mistake  the  intensity  of  Maxwell's  anger. 

"  Prepare  yourself  for  a  surprise,  Hilton,  and  then  see 
what  awaits  you  beyond  that  bush,"  he  said.  "I  had 
partly  expected  it,  but  when  I  came  upon  it  the  sight 
almost  sickened  me." 

Dane's  nerves  were  tolerably  good,  but  when  he 
passed  the  creepers  he  experienced  a  shock  of  nausea 
and  halted  abruptly.  Two  black  men  were  scooping  out 
a  trench,  while  another  crouched  near  by,  crooning 
something  while  he  ran  his  thumb  caressingly  up  and 
down  a  matchet  blade.  He  looked  up  at  the  white 
man's  coming,  and  his  face  was  a  study.  Horror  was 
stamped  upon  it;  but  a  slow,  relentless  ferocity  was 
written  there  too.  This  Dane  saw  with  his  first 
glance,  but  after  the  second  he  turned  his  eyes  away. 
Maxwell  was  right.  They  had  found  the  missing 
sentry.  The  object — for  there  was  little  resemblance 
of  humanity  left  in  what  lay  a  foul  blotch  on  the 
forest  before  him — was  stretched  across  the  trail;  and 
the  neck  was  twisted  so  that  the  face,  left  twhole, 


THE  TRAIL  OF  THE  LEOPARD       145 

looked  down  the  pathway  the  way  the  expedition 
should  have  come,  distorted  and  ghastly,  with  its 
changeless  grin  of  pain.  Words  appeared  superfluous, 
but  Dane's  sensations  demanded  relief  in  speech. 

"Horrible!  horrible!  But  what  is  the  matter  with 
Bad  Dollar?  He  looks  positively  murderous!" 

"It  is  not  surprising,"  answered  Maxwell.  "The 
African  is  not  always  admirable  in  his  domestic  rela- 
tions, but  what  lies  yonder  was  his  brother." 

Dane,  stooping,  patted  the  negro's  head. 

"It  will  be  a  bad  day  for  some  of  the  Leopards  when 
he  settles  that  score.  Listen  to  me,  Maxwell.  Heaven 
knows  whether  through  greed  I  am  responsible  for  part 
of  this;  but  I  most  solemnly  promise  that  if  ever  I  can 
find  the  master  fiend  who  inspired  the  murderers,  I'll 
avenge  that  poor  devil,  as  well  as  Lyle,  the  trader,  what- 
ever it  costs  me.  We're  partners  in  this  affair,  Bad 
Dollar!" 

It  is  probable  that  the  naked  heathen  attached  little 
meaning  to  the  words,  but  he  understood  the  hoarseness 
of  the  white  man's  voice,  and  the  steely  glint  in  his  eyes. 
He  laid  his  black  hands  on  the  speaker's  foot. 

"It  is  a  bargain,"  Dane  said  gravely.  "I  mean  to 
keep  it,  Maxwell." 

"You  are  a  little  impetuous,"  was  the  quiet  answer. 
"Some  day  there  will,  I  hope,  be  a  reckoning;  but  a 
wise  man  says  little  and  awaits  his  opportunity.  Our 
turn  has  not  come  yet.  When  it  does  I  do  not  think  you 
will  find  me  dilatory.  Meanwhile,  I'm  puzzled.  There 
are  points  connected  with  this  affair  which  are  far  from 
clear;  but  those  fellows  have  finished  and  we  will  go  on 
again." 

Beyond  instructing  Dane  and  his  immediate  followers 


146  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

to  keep  the  occurrence  secret,  Maxwell  said  nothing 
further  until  noon  had  passed,  when  Dane  asked  a 
question. 

"Why  did  the  Leopards  make  their  first  move  now, 
when  we  could,  if  we  wished  it,  retreat,  instead  of 
waiting  until  we  had  penetrated  farther  into  their 
country?" 

"It  is  a  pertinent  question,"  said  Maxwell.  "For 
one  thing,  this  is,  after  all,  King  Shaillu's  country,  and 
they  possibly  fear  that  if  we  once  have  speech  with  him, 
the  headman,  who,  so  the  French  officers  told  me,  has  a 
hankering  after  civilization,  might  extend  us  protection. 
But  that  does  not  quite  account  for  everything.  You 
remember  Miss  Castro's  mention  of  the  following 
shadow?  Events  have  proved  her  predictions  signally 
correct  hitherto,  and  I  am  inclined  to  fancy  that  the 
worst  danger  still  lies  behind  us  and  not  before." 

Maxwell  vouchsafed  no  further  information,  and 
though  Dane  knew  it  was  well  the  expedition  had  for  its 
leader  a  man  unmoved  alike  by  excess  of  anger  or  mis- 
guided pity,  he  could  not  help  retorting:  "You  foresee  a 
good  deal,  Carsluith.  It  is  unfortunate  you  could  not 
more  often  prevent  it.  Why  could  you  not  have  told 
me  more  of  what  you  anticipated?" 

Maxwell  laughed  good-humoredly. 

"Isn't  it  apparent  that  what  I  prevent  from  happen- 
ing does  not  occur?  As  to  the  last  question,  perhaps  the 
African's  answer,  'You  never  asked  me,'  is  the  best. 
One  dreads  so  much  that  it  appeared  useless  to  harrow 
your  feelings  until  I  was  certain," 

The  march  through  headman  Shaillu's  dominions  left 
upon  Dane  only  a  series  of  blurred  impressions.  He 


THE  TRAIL  OF  THE  LEOPARD       147 

was  too  sick  to  notice  definite  details  most  of  the  time; 
but  he  decided  that  under  no  circumstances  could  it  be 
considered  a  cheerful  country.  For  days  together  the 
expedition  floundered  through  dripping  forest  so  laced 
and  bound  with  creepers  that  at  noon  the  daylight  could 
hardly  filter  down.  The  atmosphere  resembled  that 
of  a  Turkish  bath;  moisture  splashed  upon  the  broad 
leaves  everywhere,  and  the  heat  and  the  gloom  together 
produced  a  distressing  lassitude.  This  the  white  men 
made  strenuous  efforts  to  resist,  knowing  that  they 
might  blunder  into  an  ambush  at  any  moment. 

It  was  evident  that  their  enemies  had  not  lost  touch 
with  them;  for  in  spite  of  their  keenest  vigilance,  a 
carrier  was  twice  spirited  out  of  camp  at  night.  Once 
Dane,  making  the  rounds  with  a  lantern,  came 
upon  a  sentry  huddled  beneath  a  cottonwood.  He 
had  paid  a  heavy  penalty  for  his  drowsiness.  Even 
Maxwell  showed  signs  of  temper  at  this,  and  the  expedi- 
tion waited  two  nights  in  camp  while  its  leaders  prowled 
through  the  forest  in  an  attempt  to  surprise  the  assassins. 
It  was,  of  course,  a  failure.  They  returned  at  sunrise, 
muddy,  ragged,  and  savage,  having  neither  seen  nor 
heard  anything  suspicious. 

The  fact  that  they  never  did  see  their  persecutors 
was  the  most  harassing  feature  of  it  all;  and  at  last  Dane 
grew  by  turns  murderously  resentful  and  subject  to  fits 
of  limp  dejection,  in  which  the  fever  had  doubtless  a 
share.  The  few  villages  they  passed  were  empty. 
Where  a  river  crossed  their  path  the  canoes  had  been 
taken  away;  and  at  intervals  detachments  of  the  car- 
riers fell  sick  mysteriously.  When  they  limped  out 
into  a  waste  of  crackling,  sword-edged  grass,  the  glare 


148  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

and  dust  and  heat  were  bewildering,  and  after  a  few 
days  Dane  longed  for  the  forest  again. 

Still  they  held  on,  and  one  evening  they  marched, 
blanched  in  face,  and  very  weary,  into  sight  of  one  of 
the  strongholds  of  headman  Shaillu. 


CHAPTER  XII 

WEALTH  IN  SIGHT 

A  STOCKADE  ran  round  the  village,  and  rows  of 
**•  thatched  roofs  loomed  above  the  frowning  wall  of 
timber,  but  instead  of  the  usual  clamor,  there  was  dead 
silence  as,  with  some  semblance  of  order,  the  footsore, 
and  spiritless  carriers  limped  in  through  the  open  gate. 
Nothing  except  a  few  lizards  stirred  in  the  first  sandy 
avenue,  and  the  oppressive  stillness  remained  unbroken 
by  the  voice  of  man  or  beast.  The  sun  hung  low  above 
the  parched  grass  in  the  west,  and  crimson  splendors 
blazed  behind  the  huts;  but  a  strange  musky  odor 
replaced  the  pungent  fragrance  of  burning  wood  which 
at  that  hour  hangs  over  each  African  village. 

"The  whole  land  seems  dead,"  Dane  said  slowly, 
leaning  heavily  on  his  rifle  as  he  spoke.  "There  are 
times  when  one  could  almost  fancy,  Carsluith,  that  you 
and  I  were  ghosts — indeed,  at  the  present  moment  you 
don't  look  unlike  one;  but  what  is  the  meaning  of  this 
latest  riddle?  This  is  the  black  headman's  capital, 
isn't  it?" 

Maxwell  smiled  mirthlessly,  as  he  stood;  with  beaded 
forehead  and  shoulders  bent,  glancing  toward  the  weary 
carriers.  His  face  was  worn  and  hollow,  though  his 
eyes  were  bright,  and  his  clothing  was  dropping  in 
tatters  from  his  weary  limbs.  The  glare  behind  him 
emphasized  the  lividness  of  his  pallid  skin. 

"It  is  one  of  them.    I  believe  he  has  several,"  he 

149 


150  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

said.  "  Whether  he  fears  reprisals  from  some  plundered 
neighbor,  or  pestilence,  I  naturally  don't  know;  but,  as 
his  absence  will  save  us  a  good  many  presents  and  much 
loss  of  time,  it  is  not  material.  Still,  we  might  find  some 
clue  in  one  of  these  huts. " 

Maxwell  entered  the  nearest,  then  moved  into  an- 
other, and  stayed  there  some  time,  leaving  Dane  in  the 
sandy  avenue  before  it;  the  carriers  were  resting  at  a 
distance.  The  sun  dipped,  and  as  Dane  watched  the 
night  creep  up  swiftly  from  the  east,  it  struck  him  that 
there  was  a  curious  uncanny  feeling  about  the  place. 
It  was  a  relief  when  his  comrade  returned,  looking 
graver  than  ever. 

"Did  you  find  any  one  inside?" 

"I  did,"  was  the  answer.  " Unfortunately  the  man, 
as  well  as  the  one  in  the  next  hut,  was  dead,  and  had,  I 
fancy,  been  so  for  some  time.  He  probably  died  of  a 
plague,  which  explains  why  the  town  is  empty.  We 
may  find  something  more  conclusive  in  one  of  the  larger 
huts." 

Dane  decided  that  the  discovery  of  two  dead  Africans 
was  sufficient,  and  said  so;  but  Maxwell  persisted,  and 
it  was  almost  dark  when  they  halted  outside  what 
appeared  to  be  the  headman's  dwelling.  Nothing  could 
be  distinguished  in  the  interior,  but  Dane  could  hear 
creeping  things  rustle  in  the  thatch,  and  the  peculiar 
odor  he  already  had  noticed  drifted  forth  from  the  hut. 
This  was  all,  but  he  felt  an  instinctive  repugnance  to 
entering,  and  when  Maxwell  passed  him,  he  caught  him 
by  the  shoulder  to  suggest  that  they  should  light  a 
lantern  first.  Hardly  had  he  done  so  than  what  ap- 
peared to  be  a  puff  of  colder  air  sighed  close  past  his  ear, 
and  Maxwell,  whipping  out  his  revolver,  hailed  him  to 


WEALTH  IN  SIGHT  151 

run  round  the  hut  as  he  leaped  into  the  room.  Dane 
did  so,  finding  another  entrance  at  the  rear,  and  a  broad 
space  between  the  dwelling  and  the  nearest  hut.  No- 
body, he  felt  almost  certain,  would  have  had  sufficient 
time  to  cross  it,  but  the  space  was  empty.  When  he 
went  in  Maxwell  had  torn  down  and  lighted  strips  of 
palm-leaf  from  the  thatch,  but  the  flame  that  leaped  up 
showed  them  no  sign  of  living  humanity.  Maxwell's 
countenance  was  very  grim. 

"You  saw  nobody  outside  there?  I  hardly  thought 
you  would, "  he  said.  "Our  animal  instincts  are  some- 
times more  useful  than  our  powers  of  reasoning,  Hilton. 
It  is  probable  that  if  you  had  not  checked  me,  I  should 
now  be  on  my  way  out  of  this  land  of  surprises.  What 
we  heard  was  a  diminutive  arrow,  no  doubt  with  the 
venom  there's  no  cure  for  upon  its  point.  It  could 
not  have  been  shot  at  us  by  either  of  the  Africans 
yonder. " 

Dane,  glancing  at  the  two  awful  huddled  figures, 
swore  softly  and  viciously. 

"It  is  time  we  struck  back,  Carsluith, "  he  urged. 
"I'll  call  up  our  boys  and  surround  the  huts." 

"It  would  be  useless,"  said  Maxwell,  shaking  his 
head.  "You  have  not  realized  these  fellows'  ingenuity, 
even  yet.  Further,  if  the  boys  saw  what  we  have  seen 
it  might  be  disastrous. " 

A  horror  of  the  whole  country  where  such  things  were 
possible  came  upon  Dane  and  he  moistened  his  dry  lips 
with  his  tongue. 

"I  would  give  ten  years  of  my  life  to  stand  face  to 
face  with  the  leader  of  these  devils. " 

"Perhaps  you  will  some  day!  I  am  puzzled  among 
other  things  by  their  pertinacity.  The  heathen  is  un- 


152  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

stable,  and  one  almost  feels  that  there  must  be  some- 
thing stronger  than  the  native's  spasmodic  purpose 
behind  what  we  have  endured.  In  any  case,  it  will  be 
pleasanter  to  camp  outside  the  town  to-night. " 

They  had  some  trouble  in  inducing  their  followers  to 
quit  the  promised  shelter,  but  both  felt  easier  when  they 
had  repassed  the  stockade  gate.  That  was  apparently 
their  enemies'  last  effort,  for  they  were  not  molested 
during  the  rest  of  their  journey;  and  eventually  Max- 
well halted  his  worn-out  men  beside  a  shrunken  river. 
It  came  down  out  of  a  chaos  of  jungle- covered  hills, 
rippling  over  sharp  sand,  with  tall  bluffs  on  the  oppo- 
site side  of  it;  and  within  five  minutes  every  carrier 
was  rolling  and  splashing  in  the  lukewarm  stream. 

Dane  quivered  with  eagerness  as  he  watched  Max- 
well, who,  looking  up  from  a  paper  in  his  hand,  smiled 
inscrutably. 

"Yes.  From  Niven's  description  we  have  reached 
our  goal  at  last.  I  was  almost  afraid  his  memory  or 
imagination  had  betrayed  him,"  he  said.  "That  must 
be  the  bluff  he  camped  on,  and  this,  according  to  his 
assertion,  the  river  which  sprinkles  its  sand  with  gold. 
However,  he  hinted  that  it  would  pay  better  to  prospect 
the  higher  pools.  I  want  you  to  test  his  statement, 
Hilton.  The  result  of  the  experiment  promises  to  be 
eventful." 

Maxwell's  voice  was  slightly  uneven,  but  his  fingers 
seemed  steady  as  he  lighted  one  of  their  few  last  cigars. 
Dane  felt  his  own  knees  weak  beneath  him,  and  his 
voice  was  hoarse  when  he  hailed  a  carrier  whose  load 
consisted  of  prospecting  tools.  Carrying  a  tin  dish  and 
a  small  shovel,  he  waded  into  the  shrunken  river.  There 
was  a  patch  of  sand  near  its  center  from  which  he  filled 


WEALTH  IN  SIGHT  153 

the  metal  basin,  and  then  halted  with  a  curious  sickly 
feeling,  afraid  almost  to  test  its  contents.  He  had  sunk 
too  much  of  his  slender  capital  in  the  venture,  and  his 
future  depended  upon  that  test.  Its  issues  were  pros- 
perity and  the  realization  of  the  hope  that  had  sent  him 
to  Africa,  or  a  weary  struggle  for  daily  bread;  and  the 
climate-weakened  man  felt  that,  after  all  they  had 
dared  and  suffered,  he  could  hardly  face  failure.  The 
perspiration  trickled  into  his  eyes,  and  oozed  from  his 
hair,  and  he  stood  still,  knee-deep  in  the  nameless  river, 
for  the  space  of  almost  a  minute. 

Then,  stooping  suddenly,  he  dipped  the  vessel  and 
whirled  it  round  and  round  until  partly  empty.  There 
was  a  color  about  some  of  the  particles  remaining  that 
caught  his  attention;  but  he  would  not  trust  a  partial 
test,  and  continued  the  washing  until,  except  for  a 
very  trifling  residue,  the  pan  was  empty.  Still,  Max- 
well made  no  comment  and  asked  no  question,  for,  if 
one  was  now  swift  in  action,  the  other  was  great  in 
silence. 

Dane  straightened  himself,  and  waded  back  with  dry 
lips  and  tickling  throat,  but  with  triumph  in  his  eyes; 
and  Maxwell  laughed  softly  as  he  grasped  the  hand  he 
stretched  out. 

"What  have  you  found?"  he  asked. 

"Enough  to  prove  your  dead  friend  right,  and  en- 
courage us  to  search  for  something  better!"  Dane 
spoke  as  calmly  as  he  could.  "It  is  only  stream  gold, 
and  doubtless  readily  worked  out,  but  heaven  knows 
how  much  more  there  may  be  up  yonder  where  this 
came  down  from. " 

"You  think— 

"That  Niven  was  not  mad,  but  eminently  sane!     I'm 


154  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

not  a  practical  gold  prospector,  but  I  couldn't  well  help 
learning  a  little  of  the  theory  when  working  on  the 
drawings  of  hydraulic  mining  machinery.  It's  a 
question  of  the  velocity  of  the  current  and  specific 
gravity — for  even  with  a  stream  behind  gold  grains  of 
any  size  don't  travel  far;  and  their  matrix  lies  in  yonder 
hills,  or  beyond  them,  somewhere. " 

"We'll  go  on  again  to-morrow,"  said  Maxwell 
quietly. 

For  a  week  they  hewed  a  way  through  the  jungles 
on  the  hillside,  or  waded  up  the  bed  of  the  river  where 
it  promised  an  easier  road;  and  finally,  daring  to  pene- 
trate no  farther,  they  pitched  camp  on  a  palm-crested 
bluff  overhanging  a  breadth  of  dry  sand  and  a  deep  pool 
beneath  a  fall.  Since  leaving  Shaillu's  stronghold  they 
had  neither  been  followed  by  their  persecutors  nor  seen 
anything  with  life  in  it.  Maxwell  left  all  operations  to 
his  friend's  direction,  and  toiled  beside  him  for  several 
days  like  a  galley  slave,  digging  and  blowing  out  with 
explosives  a  new  channel  to  empty  the  pool,  besides 
hewing  troughs  to  bring  down  the  water  from  above  the 
faU. 

Once  more  the  burning  day  was  drawing  toward  its 
close  when,  with  the  roar  of  the  last  shot  rolling  across 
the  encircling  forest  and  the  water  frothing  muddily 
down  its  new  outlet,  Dane  stood  beside  his  comrade, 
leaning  on  a  shovel,  and  wondering  greatly  that  the 
latter  could  think  of  anything  beyond  the  result  of  their 
experiment. 

"The  jungle  seems  to  mock  us,  does  it  not? "  Maxwell 
remarked.  "Already  its  silence  has  swallowed  the 
feeble  din  we  made;  and  the  next  flood  will  obliterate 
forever  all  traces  of  your  workings. " 


WEALTH  IN  SIGHT  155 

"Then  you  don't  believe  that  this  is  the  beginning  of 
a  new  era,  and  that  those  who  follow  us  will  change  the 
future  of  this  wilderness?"  asked  Dane  with  a  show 
of  incredulity. 

Maxwell  pointed  to  the  jungle  fading  into  the  dimness 
of  the  east. 

"I  do  not.  Look  at  it,"  he  said.  "It  has  stood  so 
from  the  beginning,  a  place  of  everlasting  shadow,  for 
the  naked  bushmen  to  hunt  each  other  in;  and  it  will 
be  the  same  long  centuries  after  you  and  I  are  gone. 
It  is  too  old  and  changeless  for  even  the  Briton  to  sub- 
due. Phoenician,  Roman,  Arab,  and  Moor  have  all 
tackled  this  all-absorbing  Africa;  and  while  the  brown 
men  have  left  a  plainer  stamp  on  it  than  the  white  men, 
how  much  has  any  of  them  done?  Still,  all  this  is 
beside  the  question,  isn't  it?  It  will  be  enough  for  you 
and  me  if  we  can  return  home  safely  with  some  small 
augmentation  of  our  capital.  Hadn't  you  better  re- 
sume your  digging,  Hilton?" 

Dane  did  so,  stripped  to  the  waist;  and  great  fires 
were  blazing  before  he  came  up  out  of  the  river,  ex- 
ultant. 

"I  can't  promise  a  fortune,  but  there  should  be  suffi- 
cient to  pay  us  for  all  our  toil, "  he  said.  "Those  little 
grains  will  realize  almost  four  pounds  an  ounce. " 

They  set  out  a  carefully  treasured  bottle  of  lukewarm 
wine  that  night  in  the  tent,  and  duly  emptied  it,  though, 
perhaps  for  the  same  reason,  neither  of  them  ate  much; 
and  afterward  they  sat  long  talking  under  the  smoky 
lamp.  It  was  a  night  to  remember,  for  it  is  not  often 
one  enjoys  the  same  thrill  of  triumph  twice  in  a  lifetime. 
Maxwell  was  unusually  communicative;  and  long  after- 
ward Dane  could  remember  how  he  leaned  against  a 


156  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

deal  case,  worn,  thin,  and  haggard,  but  with  a  smile  of 
satisfaction  on  his  hollow  face. 

"Success  appears  within  sight  at  last,  but  it  is  well 
to  take  good  fortune  soberly,"  he  said.  "I  am,  how- 
ever, sensible  of  an  insane  desire  to  do  something  extrav- 
agant when  I  remember  all  that  word  implies.  You 
have  seen  Culmeny,  Hilton,  but  it  is  hardly  possible  that 
you  can  realize  the  affection  I  have  for  the  old  place.  It 
was  fast  falling  into  ruin  before  my  father  improved  its 
finances  a  little  by  painful  economy;  and,  because  we 
generally  fought  and  plotted  for  the  losing  side,  the  poor 
acres  about  it  have  been  starved  overlong.  Now,  after 
many  an  arduous  search  for  the  wherewithal,  I  can 
hope  it  may  be  granted  me  to  restore  a  measure  of  its 
former  prosperity.  The  Culmeny  mosses  could  be 
turned  into  plow-land  and  pasture  with  the  aid  of  a 
little  money. " 

"You  are  a  young  man,  Carsluith,"  Dane  replied 
suggestively.  "Being  merely  one  of  the  swarming 
people,  I  don't  know  that  love  for — an  ancient  dwelling 
— would  have  exacted  so  much  from  me.  Drainage 
schemes  are  no  doubt  useful,  but  was  the  extension  of 
them  your  only  ambition?" 

Maxwell  laughed  good-humoredly,  though  a  trace  of 
shadow  crept  back  into  his  face. 

"No,"  he  said  slowly;  "there  was  a  time  when  they 
took  a  very  secondary  place.  Every  one  has  his  weak- 
nesses, and  even  now  I  have  not  quite  got  over  mine. " 

The  friendship  between  the  two  men  had  never  been 
demonstrative,  but  it  was  deep  enough  to  make  Dane's 
comment  no  liberty. 

"I  can  guess.  The  old  story,  no  doubt.  'It  was  the 
woman  who  tempted  me!'  She  treated  you  badly?" 


WEALTH  IN  SIGHT  157 

"No,"  Maxwell  answered  quietly,  looking  hard  at 
his  companion.  "She — God  bless  her — could  treat  no 
one  harshly.  It  was  my  own  folly  to  dream  that  she, 
with  her  fresh  young  beauty  and  the  light-heartedness 
of  innocence,  could  find  anything  congenial  in  such  a 
taciturn,  somber  man  as  myself.  Well,  that  romance  is 
over,  but  it  has  left  its  mark;  and  now  all  that  I  hope  for 
is  that  Culmeny  will  flourish  for  a  brief  space  under  the 
last  of  an  unfortunate  family. " 

Now  there  are  limits  beyond  which  even  one  who 
has  sickened  and  fought  and  suffered  beside  a  trusted 
comrade  may  hardly  go,  and  Dane  repressed  the 
question  which  trembled  on  his  lips.  Nevertheless,  he 
afterward  fancied  that  if  he  had  asked  it  then  Maxwell 
would  have  answered  him;  and  the  revelation  probably 
would  have  made  a  vast  difference  in  the  future  of  both 
of  them.  Dane  did  not,  however,  ask. 

He  was  partly  dazed  by  his  own  good  fortune,  and, 
when  at  last  they  ceased  from  speech,  he  sat  in  contented 
silence  conjuring  up  roseate  visions  of  the  future.  It 
was  true  that  he  had  quarreled  with  Lilian,  or  she  had 
quarreled  with  him;  but  during  the  time  of  stress  and 
struggle  the  importance  of  the  difference  between  them 
had — so  it  seemed  to  the  man — steadily  diminished. 
He  could  recall  significant  trifles  which  suggested  that 
the  time  would  come  when  the  woman  would  no  longer 
enforce  the  terms  of  their  compact;  and  he  felt  that  it 
was  at  least  possible  that,  returning  triumphant,  he 
would  find  that  she  had  already  forgiven  his  supposed 
offenses.  So  hope  rose  victorious  over  doubts  and 
dejection;  and  Dane  was  nodding,  dreaming,  while 
still  half-awake,  golden  dreams,  when  Maxwell's  voice 
recalled  him  to  the  laborious  present. 


158  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

"It  is  past  midnight,  and  the  task  before  us  will  tax 
our  uttermost  energies.  Isn't  it  time  to  turn  in, 
Hilton?" 

Dane  nodded. 

"We  will  begin  at  sunrise,"  he  said;  "work  every 
possible  hour,  and  start  back  for  England  whenever 
the  yield  falls  off.  It  is  better  to  make  sure  of  a  portion 
than  risk  the  whole  by  straining  for  too  much;  and 
fortune  does  not  appear  to  favor  white  men  overlong  in 
this  country.  Even  if  we  were  but  half  satisfied,  it 
should  not  be  difficult  to  float  a  company." 

Maxwell  shook  his  head. 

"Your  first  suggestion  shows  some  discernment, 
Hilton;  the  second,  less.  Even  a  wildcat  company 
promoter  would  fight  shy  of  this  mine;  and  it  is  tolerably 
certain  that  we  have  both  the  cross-marked  man  and 
Monsieur  Victor  Rideau  still  to  reckon  with." 

Dane  stretched  himself  out  on  some  matting  when 
Maxwell  turned  out  the  lamp,  but  he  did  not  immedi- 
ately sleep.  The  hot  African  darkness  hemmed  in  the 
little  tent,  but  he  could  see  his  comrade's  figure  dimly 
outlined  against  it  as  he  sat  rigidly  still  in  the  entrance. 
Then  it  struck  him  that  they  were  very  far  away  from 
all  help  from  civilization,  with  a  secret  in  their  posses- 
sion which  already  had  cost  the  lives  of  other  men. 
The  roseate  visions  faded,  and  a  sense  of  impending 
trouble  preceded  slumber.  It  was  significant  that 
Dane's  fingers  sought  the  pistol  that  lay  beside  him. 

"Not  asleep  yet?"  asked  Maxwell.  "What  is 
troubling  you?" 

"I  don't  quite  know,"  Dane  answered.  "I  was 
going  to  ask  you  the  same  thing.  Carsluith,  if  Rideau 
or  the  other  rascal  interferes  with  us  further  before  I 


WEALTH  IN  SIGHT  159 


have  won  sufficient  to  float  my  patent,  some  of  the 
party  won't  go  home  again." 

The  sun  had  just  cleared  the  forest  when,  one  morning 
soon  after  Dane  had  set  his  flume  and  washing  gear  to 
work,  he  sat  at  breakfast  before  a  swinging  table  in 
their  extemporized  mess  tent.  Maxwell,  who  had  just 
risen,  stood  in  the  entrance,  partly  dazzled  by  the  grow- 
ing brightness.  Suddenly  some  of  the  Krooboys 
commenced  to  chatter  excitedly,  and  a  negro's  voice 
rose  above  the  commotion: 

"White  man  lib  for  across  the  river!" 

Maxwell,  springing  into  the  tent,  snatched  up  a 
pair  of  binoculars;  and  the  table  overturned  with  a 
crash  as  Dane  scrambled  to  his  feet. 

"The  devil!"  he  exclaimed,  staring  stupidly  at  the 
figure  below  which  saluted  them  with  uplifted  arm. 

Maxwell  frowned  as  he  sharply  closed  the  glasses. 

"No,"  he  said,  "not  exactly.  It  is  Monsieur  Victor 
Rideau." 

Ten  minutes  had  passed  before  the  man  Dane  had 
seen  at  Castro's  factory  came  smiling  into  camp,  and 
the  miner  glanced  at  him  curiously.  He  was  short,  but 
somewhat  burly  and  broad-chested  for  a  man  of  pure 
Gallic  descent.  His  hair  was  very  crisp  and  black,  his 
face  swarthy,  and  his  fingers  suspiciously  like  those 
of  the  negro.  He  was,  considering  the  country,  neatly 
arrayed  in  white  duck  and  shoes  with  pointed  toes. 
Monsieur  Rideau  had  evidently  traveled  in  a  hammock. 

"Felicitations,  camarades,"  he  began,  with,  it  seemed 
to  one  observer,  an  excess  of  amiability.  "It  please 
me  greatly  to  meet  the  friend  of  my  own  color  in  this 
country  of  the  devil,  so  I  leave  all  my  boy  behind  there 
and  push  on  with  much  expedition  to  salute  you." 


160  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

"That  was  very  kind,"  said  Maxwell  shortly,  never 
moving  his  eyes  from  his  enemy.  "The  eagerness  was 
mutual.  My  friend  here  upset  our  breakfast  equipage 
in  his  hurry  to  greet  you.  The  cook,  however,  will  get 
you  some  more  presently." 

Dane  fancied  he  read  satisfaction  in  his  comrade's 
face  when  the  other  answered: 

"I  have  the  breakfast  already.  You  smoke  now.  I 
have  these  from  Cuba — he  is  smuggle.  No?  That  is 
the  pity;  but  we  talk  at  least.  I  have  affaire  of  im- 
portance to  discuss  with  you." 

"So  I  presumed,"  said  Maxwell,  with  no  excess 
of  civility.  "Our  tent  is  hardly  fit  to  enter,  but 
there  is  still  shade  here.  Please  consider  us  attentive 
listeners." 

"Bien!"  Rideau  carefully  laid  a  silk  handkerchief  on 
a  fallen  cottonwood  before  he  took  his  seat.  "I  come  to 
search  the  gold  mine,  and  find  two  men  of  my  own  color 
have  find  her  already.  Me,  I  am  not  greedy.  I  say 
there  is  the  plenty  for  three.  So  I  make  proposal.  I 
go  the  partner  with  you." 

"Suppose  that  does  not  suit  us?"  Dane  broke  in. 

Rideau  lifted  one  shoulder  and  stretched  out  the 
other  arm  with  an  air  that  was  not  wholly  Gallic,  but 
rather  suggested  the  grimaces  of  a  negro. 

"It  would  be  the  pity.  You  know  how  we  say, 

'J'y  suis ?'  As  an  American  captain  I  have  once 

small  difference  with  tell  me  when  he  establish  himself 
all  day  on  my  veranda:  'I'm  here,  Mr.  Shylocker,  and 
until  I  get  what  I've  come  for  I  stop  right  where  I  am.' 
Shylocker,  I  tell  him,  is  a  compliment  not  comprehended 
of  me.  That  was  a  man  of  determination,  but  I  van- 
quish him,  my  friends." 


WEALTH  IN  SIGHT  161 

Hitherto  something  in  the  speaker's  fastidious  neat- 
ness and  excessive  bonhommie  had,  because  his  welcome 
was  the  reverse  of  cordial,  prevented  Dane  from  taking 
him  seriously.  Now  there  was  a  glint  in  his  dark  eyes 
which  suggested  that  he  might  prove  dangerous;  and 
Dane  surmised  that  the  last  sentence  was  meant  as  a 
warning.  In  any  case,  his  blood  took  fire  at  its  veiled 
insolence. 

"It  seems  to  me  you  could  only  have  found  your  way 
here  by  means  of  a  map  stolen  from  me!"  he  said  hotly, 
rising  as  he  spoke. 

Maxwell  silenced  him  with  a  gesture. 

"That  is  beside  the  question,  Hilton.  Monsieur 
Rideau  is  here,  and,  as  he  informs  us,  here  he  means  to 
stay.  The  first  question  is  whether,  if  we  do  not  wish 
it,  he  is  able  to." 

Rideau  took  up  the  challenge  with  outward  good- 
humor. 

"I  have  of  camp  boy  two,  or  perhaps  three,  for  every 
one  I  see  of  you.  Most  he  is  also  arm  with  the  good 
rifle.  If  there  is  the  bad  understanding,  somebody  is 
possibly  get  kill,  which  is  distressing  to  me.  Beside, 
the  barbaric  indigene  he  go  chop  us  separables,  as  the 
nigger  say.  United  we  are  invincibles,  voyez  VOMS?" 

"I  believe  I  do,"  Maxwell  answered,  in  a  tone  which 
suggested  that  he  saw  considerably  more  than  the 
other's  words  revealed;  and  Dane  watched  the  pair,  as 
for  some  seconds  they  lapsed  into  silence — the  Briton 
motionless  and  almost  too  rigid  in  bearing,  with  an 
expressionless  face;  the  swarthy  adventurer  smiling 
out  of  shifty  eyes,  while  his  fingers  betrayed  his 
impatience. 

Then  Maxwell  spoke  abruptly. 


162  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

"Your  proposal  demands    serious    consideration.     I 
would  prefer   to  give  you  an  answer  this  time  to- 


morrow." 


"Bien"  Rideau  acquiesced;  and  after  a  detailed 
account  of  his  adventures,  which  Dane  surmised  was 
wholly  fictitious,  he  took  his  leave. 

"The  savage  has  his  virtues  as  well  as  his  failings," 
said  Maxwell,  looking  after  him.  "That  man,  how- 
ever, is  neither  French  nor  negro,  and  such  as  he  usually 
combine  the  vices  of  both  sides  of  their  ancestry. 
What  do  you  think  of  his  proposal,  Hilton?" 

"I  should  have  dismissed  him  with  four  expressive 
words.  Why  did  you  promise  to  consider  it  at  all?" 

Maxwell  smiled  dryly. 

"Because  I  intend  to  do  so.  I  will  give  you  my 
reasons  this  evening  when,  after  a  day's  consideration, 
I  shall  have  them  ready  in  a  more  definite  shape.  In 
the  meantime,  we  had  better  continue  the  mining." 


CHAPTER  XIII 

PESTILENCE 

THE  result  of  the  day's  work  was  encouraging, 
though  it  cost  Dane  an  effort  to  concentrate  his 
attention  upon  his  task.  Rideau's  swarthy  face 
haunted  him;  he  would  have  felt  more  cheerful  had  his 
companion  decided  to  defy  him.  Maxwell,  however, 
said  little,  and  appeared  to  find  pleasure  in  working 
with  concentrated  energy. 

Evening  came  at  last,  and  thick  darkness  closed  about 
the  lonely  tent.  Neither  of  the  men  ate  much,  and 
when  the  frugal  meal  had  been  cleared  away,  Maxwell 
once  more  spread  his  map  on  the  table. 

"  We  have  to  make  an  eventful  decision,  and  it  might 
be  well  to  consider  our  position,"  he  said,  laying  his 
finger  on  the  map.  "We  are  somewhere  here,  just 
beyond  the  fringe  of  Shaillu's  country,  with  a  difficult 
and  dangerous  country  between  us  and  civilization,  and 
a  little-known  land,  whose  inhabitants  are  supposed  to 
be  predatory  tribes,  to  the  north." 

"We  will  take  all  that  for  granted,"  responded  Dane. 
"Can  you  give  me  Rideau's  record?" 

"But  little  of  it.  He  is  evidently  ot  mixed  blood, 
and  partly  educated,  a  trader  by  profession,  with  a 
mysterious  inland  connection.  I  was  told  that  the 
authorities  suspect  him  of  trafficking  in  unlawful 
weapons,  or  even  in  black  humanity.  I  have  little 
doubt  it  was  he  who  hired  the  man  with  the  scar  on 

163 


164  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

his  forehead  to  arrange  for  Niven's  destruction;  and, 
while  several  points  are  not  clear  to  me,  I  fancy  he  is 
at  least  partly  responsible  for  our  own  misfortunes. 
Seeing  his  efforts  to  circumvent  us  fail,  he  has  decided 
to  join  us — for  a  time.  Lastly,  I  am  inclined  to  surmise 
that  by  reason  of  some  unlawful  speculation,  jointly 
undertaken,  he  has  a  hold  on  Dom  Pedro,  and  so  ob- 
tained possession  of  the  map  you  lost.  Now,  what  are 
we  to  say  to  him?" 

"Very  little,  in  my  opinion!"  grunted  Dane.  "Tell 
him  to  go  to  the  devil!  If  that  rouses  his  indignation, 
as  I  hope  it  will,  I  should  find  satisfaction  in  assisting 
him." 

Maxwell  smiled,  but  shook  his  head. 

"Your  ways  are  delightfully  simple,  but  hardly 
practicable,  Hilton,"  he  said.  "In  the  first  place, 
Rideau  means  to  stay,  and  has,  he  tells  us,  a  force 
much  superior  to  our  own.  Suppose  we  succeeded  in 
driving  him  out  by  violence,  we  should  have  to  meet  a 
charge  of  filibustering  when  we  returned  to  the  coast, 
or  stand  a  siege  if  he  returned  with  a  host  of  native 
allies.  The  one  safe  step  in  that  direction  would  be  the 
entrapping  and  total  annihilation  of  Rideau  and  his 
party,  which,  presumably,  would  not  recommend  itself 
to  you!" 

"Heaven  forbid!"  exclaimed  Dane,  convinced  against 
his  will.  "Am  I  a  professional  murderer?  Since  you 
don't  agree  with  mine,  let  me  hear  your  views." 

"In  the  first  place  we  must  hope  that,  as  he  suggests, 
there  may  be  gold  enough  for  three.  Further,  I  con- 
sider Rideau  least  dangerous  when  under  my  own  eye, 
and  therefore  consider  it  would  be  wisest  to  accept  his 
proposal  and  watch  him  carefully.  We  shall  thus  have 


PESTILENCE  165 

peace  for  a  time,  at  least,  and  when  necessary  must 
endeavor  to  match  our  wits  against  his  guile.  That 
the  man's  company  will  not  be  pleasant,  I  need  hardly 
say;  but  we  can't  afford  to  be  particular  with  so  much 
at  stake.  Remember  that  we  came  here  to  make  money, 
and  not  in  search  of  adventures,  or  to  maintain  our 
dignity." 

Dane  only  nodded,  and  so  the  conference  concluded. 
Sooner  than  lose  what  he  hoped  for  he  was  prepared  to 
concede  anything;  but  it  might  have  been  better  if  he 
had  adhered  to  his  own  simple  plan;  for  it  is  difficult  to 
make  a  bargain  with  such  a  man  as  Rideau,  and  keep 
it  without  material  losses  as  well  as  diminished  self- 
respect. 

Early  the  next  morning  Rideau  arrived,  bringing 
with  him  an  imposing  number  of  colored  desperadoes; 
and  a  written  agreement  was  drawn  up.  They  were 
to  share  all  risks  and  expenses,  and  divide  what  gold 
they  won  on  its  safe  arrival  at  the  coast.  Rideau 
showed  bland  satisfaction  when  he  read  it  through; 
but,  before  he  filled  a  rusty  pen,  Dane  rose  and  laid 
Bonita  Castro's  keepsake  on  the  table. 

"  Faith  is  a  question  of  training,  and  exactly  what 
each  man  believes  concerns  only  himself;  but  probably 
all  of  us  respect  this  as  a  symbol,"  he  said.  "Is  that 
not  so,  Monsieur  Rideau?" 

Rideau  glanced  from  the  speaker  to  Maxwell,  and 
there  was  a  gleam  in  his  eyes,  then  he  bent  his  head. 

Flinging  down  his  battered  sun-hat,  Dane  laid  his 
right  hand  on  the  object  on  the  table,  saying:  "So  I 
solemnly  promise,  first  to  keep  this  bargain  and  faith 
with  my  partners,  if  it  cost  me  my  life  or  fortune;  and 
secondly,  to  demand  a  full  account  from  either  should 


166  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

he  betray  his  trust,  as,  if  I  fail  them,  they  shall  do  to 
me." 

Maxwell  in  turn  recorded  his  promise  with  quiet 
simplicity;  but  Rideau  started  when  the  object  was 
passed  on  to  him.  It  was  a  beautifully  wrought  crucifix 
of  medieval  workmanship.  For  a  moment  he  stared 
malevolently  at  Dane,  and  then  a  look  akin  to  fear 
crept  into  his  eyes.  But,  raising  one  hand  aloft,  he 
pledged  himself  more  solemnly  than  either,  and  at- 
tached his  name  first  of  all  to  the  foot  of  the  agreement. 
He  retired  shortly  afterward  to  pitch  his  camp,  for  the 
new  partners  had  decided  that  their  respective  carriers 
would  be  best  kept  apart;  and  Maxwell  looked  at  his 
comrade. 

"Had  you  mentally  rehearsed  that  scene,  Hilton?" 
he  asked.  "It  was  almost  a  stroke  of  genius." 

"No.  I  don't  claim  to  be  a  genius.  It  was  simply 
the  most  solemn  thing  I  could  think  of  from  his  point 
of  view.  I  meant  exactly  what  I  said,  and  I  feel 
somewhat  easier  now  that  Rideau  has  passed  the 
test." 

Maxwell  smiled. 

"You  are  very  confiding,  Hilton — and  he  did  not  pass 
the  test.  Still,  considering  the  blend  between  the 
worthy  missionaries'  teaching  and  African  superstition 
which,  while  it  would  probably  astonish  them,  accounted 
for  his  momentary  hesitation,  Rideau  is  either  braver 
or  more  avaricious  than  I  supposed  him.  Did  it  occur 
to  you  that  he  recognized  Miss  Castro's  gift?" 

Dane  was  somewhat  astonished. 

"How  do  you  know  that  it  was  Miss  Castro's  gift; 
and  what  if  he  did?" 

"I  saw  it  once  in  her  possession,  and,  as  she  naturally 


PESTILENCE  167 

would  not  sell  such  a  thing,  I  presumed  that  you  had 
not  stolen  it.  I  heard  that  Rideau  had  persecuted 
that  lady  with  his  attentions.  It  would  be  well  to 
remember  henceforward  that  ceaseless  vigilance  is 
the  price  of  safety." 

Thus,  with  the  prospect  of  treachery  on  one  side,  the 
partnership  with  Rideau  began;  but  the  new  carriers 
were  sturdy  men,  and  the  gold-washing  was  carried 
on  with  characteristic  energy,  alike  under  the  burning 
sun  of  noon  and  by  the  glare  of  great  fires  until  long  into 
the  steamy  night.  Dane  labored  with  his  own  hands 
among  his  Krooboys,  stripped  to  the  waist.  Maxwell 
seconded  him  loyally,  for  he  had  now  relinquished  the 
leader's  place;  and  by  degrees  the  pair  drilled  their 
dusky  subordinates  into  capable  workmen.  It  is  true 
that  they  usually  suspended  operations  the  moment  the 
white  men  relaxed  their  vigilance;  but  that  was  only 
to  be  expected,  and  their  masters  got  a  good  deal  out 
of  them  considering  that  most  negroes  have  a  chronic 
distaste  for  manual  labor.  Rideau's  detachment,  Dane 
noticed,  were  the  most  amenable  to  discipline,  and 
obeyed  all  orders  with  a  submission  which  puzzled  the 
observer,  for  he  knew  that  meek  obedience  is  not  a 
characteristic  of  the  seaboard  African.  Their  master, 
who  did  little  beyond  expressing  his  approval  of  Danes' 
efforts,  grew  more  cordial  as  the  weeks  went  by.  But 
Maxwell  was  civil,  and  nothing  more;  and  Dane  sur- 
mised that  he  was  rather  more  watchful  and  suspicious 
than  he  had  been  before. 

One  night  when,  worn  out  by  physical  exertion  and 
aching  in  every  joint,  they  dragged  themselves,  dripping 
with  river  water,  back  to  their  tent,  there  was  a  covert 
sneer  in  Rideau's  laugh  as  he  addressed  them: 


168  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

"You  English  are  a  curious  people,  and  there  are  those 
who  call  you  mad.  The  more  tired  and  dirty  you  are, 
the  more  happy.  I  once  see  your  naval  officer  on  the 
Niger  harness  with  the  indigene,  like  the  mule,  to  drag 
the  wheel-gun  through  a  robber  headman's  swamp. 
One  drole,  he  tell  me  it  was  the  glorious  fun." 

"I  dare  say  he  meant  it,"  retorted  Maxwell.  "It  is 
probably  owing  to  that  very  form  of  insanity  that,  while 
you — the  French,  I  mean — have  with  commendable 
foresight  appropriated  the  best  of  Africa,  we  others 
remain  at  least  its  commercial  masters." 

The  pause  and  apparent  correction  was  not  made  by 
accident,  and  Dane  fancied  that  Rideau  grasped  its 
significance.  He  retired  shortly,  and  Maxwell  looked 
thoughtful. 

"I  am  afraid  I  was  not  judicious;  but  we  are  only 
human,  and  there  are  times  when  my  dislike  for  that 
rascal  almost  masters  me,"  he  said.  "I  would  give 
much  to  learn  who  it  is  that  slinks  into  his  camp  at 
night" 

Dane  looked  puzzled,  for  Rideau's  camp  lay  across 
the  river,  and  was  watched  by  black  sentries;  no  negro 
was  permitted  on  any  excuse  to  pass  its  boundaries. 

"As  you  know,  I  have  of  late  taken  an  interest  in 
botany,"  Maxwell  laughed.  "During  my  researches  I 
found  considerably  more  specimens  of  African  vegeta- 
tion in  the  forest  surrounding  Rideau' s  camp  than  I 
know  the  names  of,  and  on  several  occasions  what  is  of 
greater  interest — footsteps  leading  toward  our  partner's 
tent.  The  man  who  made  them  wore  sandals;  there  is 
nobody  among  our  combined  followers  who  does." 

Dane  had  no  suggestions  to  make,  and  therefore  kept 
silent;  but  that  piece  of  information  left  him  uneasy. 


PESTILENCE  169 

It  was  a  still,  oppressive  day  some  months  later  when 
Dane  stood  leaning  heavily  on  a  shovel  near  the  edge 
of  the  bush.  The  temperature  made  exertion  almost 
impossible,  and  there  was  a  weight  in  the  atmosphere 
which  rendered  respiration  an  effort;  for  the  last  two 
weeks  the  sun  had  been  hidden  all  day  long  and  the 
stars  shrouded  by  haze  at  night,  and  the  same  heavy 
stillness  had  brooded  over  the  camp.  In  such  weather 
sickly  white  men  die  off,  and  wise  ones  lie  still  in  a 
hammock  whenever  possible;  but  the  lust  of  gold  had 
held  two  at  least  of  the  party  strenuously  to  their  task, 
and  already  a  little  heap  of  yellow  grains  reposed  within 
an  iron-bound  chest.  The  men  had,  however,  experi- 
enced some  trouble  with  their  colored  assistants, 
who  had  been  unusually  dejected  and  apathetic  of 
late. 

While  Dane  ran  his  eyes  along  his  trenches  it  struck 
him  that  the  raw  heaps  of  sand  and  the  rude  wooden 
flumes  appeared  strangely  out  of  place  in  that  gap  in 
the  primeval  forest.  It  towered  about  them,  vast, 
shadowy,  and  impressive,  rotting  as  it  grew,  but  throb- 
bing with  the  pulse  of  an  untrammeled  life  that  would 
tear  down  the  conduits,  and  bury  the  workings  with 
verdure,  almost  as  soon  as  their  constructors  relin- 
quished them.  The  voices  of  the  negroes,  rising  hol- 
lowly through  the  motionless  atmosphere,  sounded 
weak  and  feeble  against  its  silence. 

1  'If  all  goes  well,  and  the  yield  increases  as  it  has 
done  of  late,  we  should  have  enough  to  leave  us  a 
creditable  profit  before  the  year  is  done,"  Dane  said. 
"We  have  been  long  enough  in  this  country,  Carsluith, 
and  I  mean  to  return  to  England  before  it  wastes  all 
the  life  out  of  me." 


170     THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

Perhaps  it  was  the  weather,  for  Maxwell  appeared 
in  an  unusually  somber  mood. 

"Your  proviso  covers  a  good  deal,"  he  replied. 
"  This  is  a  land  of  surprises,  where  it  is  more  than  usually 
useless  to  predict  what  any  man  will  do.  Neither  are 
the  signs  auspicious  at  present." 

"No,"  Dane  agreed  reflectively;  "I  can't  say  that  I 
consider  them  so.  This  dead  stillness  worries  me. 
Does  it  presage  a  premature  change  in  the  seasons,  or 
has  it  any  other  unpleasant  meaning?" 

"Who  can  tell?  Anything  abnormal  carries  a  hint 
of  death  with  it  in  this  country.  Still,  there  are  other 
tokens.  The  few  tribesmen  who  brought  us  in  provi- 
sions have  vanished  completely.  The  last  we  saw 
looked  like  badly  frightened  men  and  were  moving 
south  with,  for  natives,  surprising  celerity.  As  you 
know,  the  interpreter  failed  to  understand  them,  but 
I  have  an  uneasy  feeling  that  there  was  a  sufficient 
cause  for  their  hurry.  The  negro  is  not  a  foreseeing 
person,  and  does  not  run  away  unless  the  danger  which 
threatens  him  is  tangible  and  near." 

Dane  twice  turned  to  move  back  toward  the  work- 
ings, but  did  not  do  so.  His  physical  nature  revolted 
from  toil  that  day,  and  his  brain  felt  sick  and  useless 
under  the  stress  of  temperature.  So  the  two  lingered 
until  a  negro  near  them,  dropping  his  shovel,  rolled 
over,  clawing  at  the  sand,  as  suddenly  as  a  rabbit 
stricken  by  the  gun.  His  fall  was  so  swift  and  unex- 
pected that  Dane  stared  at  the  twitching  black  limbs 
motionless  until  Maxwell's  voice  roused  him. 

"Shake  yourself  together,  Hilton.  There  is  work 
before  us!  That  fellow  must  be  carried  into  the  bush 
before  the  rest  discover  what  he  is  suffering  from." 


PESTILENCE  171 

The  man  proved  a  heavy  lift,  and  his  greasy  limbs 
writhed  within  their  grasp ;  but  they  laid  him  among  the 
creepers  without  attracting  attention,  and  Dane,  run- 
ning to  the  tent,  returned  with  a  phial. 

"  Where  do  you  feel  them  pain  lib?"  he  asked. 

The  sufferer  laid  a  black  hand  on  his  waist-cloth. 

"Somebody  done  put  hot  iron  in  heah,  sah,  and  turn 
him  round  and  round." 

Dane  managed  to  drench  him.  from  the  phial  before 
his  teeth  met  in  an  agony,  and  Maxwell  closed  one  hand 
as  he  looked  at  his  partner. 

"It  is  very  hard  that  this  should  happen — now— 
but  you  and  I  must  see  the  poor  devils  through,"  he 
said.  "  Our  help  may  not  be  worth  much,  but  it  is  all 
that  stands  between  them  and  destruction.  It  is  one 
of  the  scourges  of  this  afflicted  country — swifter  than 
cholera,  and  more  deadly.  This  camp  will  resemble 
the  pit  presently." 

Maxwell  next  glanced  down  at  the  negro  pitifully, 
his  forehead  contracted  and  his  lips  firmly  set,  but  he 
nodded  abruptly  when  Dane  spoke  again. 

"I  have  seen  something  like  it  in  South  America. 
Is  it  invariably  contagious?" 

"To  negroes,  yes;  to  white  men,  less  so.  In  any  case 
you  have  run  the  worst  risk  of  infection  already." 

"  Confound  you !    Do  you  suppose — ?" 

Maxwell  interrupted,  laying  a  hand  on  his  shoulder. 

"I  think  you  and  I  are  going  to  fight  a  very  tough 
battle  together,  Hilton." 

He  had  hardly  spoken  when  Rideau  appeared  from 
behind  them,  and  glanced  at  the  groaning  man.  Then 
he  shuffled  backward  well  away  from  him;  answered 
Maxwell's  look  of  interrogation  with  a  nod;  and,  while 


172    THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

his  face  grew  distinctly  less  like  that  of  a  European,  he 
fumbled  inside  his  jacket.  The  barrel  of  a  pistol  was 
visible  the  next  moment.  "It  is,"  he  said  suggestively, 
"if  the  cases  are  few,  the  best  way  for  preserve  the 
others.  In  their  own  country  they  use  the  paddle. 
One  good  blow  where  the  skull  she  is  thinnest,  and— 
voila,  the  safe  remedy!" 

Dane  stretched  a  big  hand  oat,  and  Rideau  winced 
with  a  stifled  expletive  as  he  dropped  the  weapon; 
while  the  Briton  was  sensible  of  a  distinct  disappoint- 
ment when  he  saw  that  the  man's  wrist  remained  un- 
broken. The  suggestion  had  apparently  revolted 
Maxwell  also;  he  stared  at  the  speaker  with  unconcealed 
loathing,  while  the  latter  opened  his  lips  for  a  moment  in 
a  wolfish  snarl  as  he  glanced  sideways  at  Dane.  Just 
then,  Victor  Rideau  looked  very  much  less  like  a  French 
gentleman  than  a  low-caste  negro.  Nevertheless,  he 
was  the  first  to  recover  his  serenity. 

"You  have  the  mistaken  squeamish;  but  me,  I  know 
the  most  advisable,  and  have  great  fear  of  the  sick 
which  catches,"  said  he.  "She  is  distressful  for  me. 
Sacre !  Here  is  more  other.  To-morrow  I  consult  you. 
Alors,  I  go." 

A  shrill  scream  of  human  agony  rang  through  the 
lifeless  air,  and  Rideau,  who  did  not  stand  upon  the 
order  of  his  going,  departed  with  all  possible  celerity. 

Neither  of  his  partners  was  much  inclined  for  mirth, 
but  there  is  often  a  ludicrous  side  to  a  tragedy;  and 
Maxwell  positively  laughed  when  Dane  savagely  hurled 
the  pistol  after  its  vanishing  owner. 

"Missed!  I  would  have  given  a  good  deal  of  the 
gold  to  strike  him  squarely  between  the  shoulders.  I 
meant  it  to  hurt,"  he  said. 


PESTILENCE  173 

Then  an  uproar  began.  Black  figures,  swarming 
out  of  the  workings,  gathered  about  the  fallen  man, 
clamoring  excitedly,  and  Maxwell  resumed  command. 

"They're  panic-stricken;  and  fear  will  spread  the 
sickness  fastest.  This  must  be  stopped  at  once!  We 
have  not  a  moment  to  lose,  or  there  will  be  murder 
done." 

Dane  felt  very  helpless  as  they  ran  forward  to  dis- 
perse the  mob  of  terror-stricken  black  men.  He  still 
carried  the  shovel,  though  Maxwell  went  empty-handed, 
because,  either  from  pride  or  policy,  he  never  displayed 
a  weapon  once  camp  had  been  pitched.  He  appeared 
quietly  resolute,  though  Dane  afterward  admitted 
feeling  desperately  anxious  and  more  than  a  little  afraid, 
for  the  mass  of  dusky  faces  with  unreasoning  fear  and 
its  accompanying  ferocity  stamped  upon  them  was  not 
an  encouraging  spectacle.  Any  one  of  those  negroes 
was  physically  a  match  for  two  white  men,  and  there 
were  a  good  many  of  them. 

The  mob  came  to  a  standstill  at  the  sight  of  them. 
Maxwell,  removing  his  hat,  straightened  out  the  dints 
in  it  before  he  spoke  a  few  words,  and  then,  thrusting 
his  way  through  the  groups  which  opened  up  before 
him,  halted  beside  the  fallen  man. 

Some  of  the  negroes  began  to  chatter;  some  shrank 
farther  back;  but  there  was  presently  an  ominous 
growling,  and  again  the  mob  surged  forward,  one  man 
with  a  matchet  launching  himself  straight  at  his  white 
master.  Hitherto  he  had  shown  himself  both  cheer- 
ful and  docile,  but  now  he  seemed  possessed  of  a  devil, 
the  devil  of  fear  transmuted  into  maniacal  savagery. 
Maxwell  did  not  at  first  see  him,  and  when  he  did  it 
would  have  been  too  late,  but  that  Dane  whirled  aloft 


174  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

the  shovel,  and  when  it  came  down  the  negro  fell  like  a 
pole-axed  ox  at  his  comrade's  feet.  Even  then  Dane 
felt  sick  and  sorry  as  he  saw  the  red  drops  run  from  the 
steel,  for  he  had  often  encouragingly  patted  his  victim's 
brawny  shoulder;  but  the  negro  is  above  all  things 
unstable,  and  that  blow  was  the  saving  of  many  lives. 
The  crowd  stood  silent,  cowed  for  a  few  moments  by 
the  swift  retribution. 

"Thanks,"  said  Maxwell;  "I  think  you  have  nipped 
it  in  the  bud,  Hilton." 

Before  he  began  to  speak  again  his  lieutenant, 
Amadu,  and  Dane's  special  follower,  Monday,  sprang 
to  their  side.  Both  carried  rifles;  and  that  turned  the 
scale.  Before  half  an  hour  had  elapsed  the  two  had 
not  only  restored  a  degree  of  confidence  and  order,  but 
had  picked  out  a  number  of  men  who  might  be  trusted 
to  act  as  sanitary  police.  By  this  time,  however,  the 
plague  had  claimed  other  victims,  and  Maxwell  started 
forthwith  to  choose  an  isolated  site  for  a  hospital  camp ; 
while  Dane,  moving  to  and  fro  among  the  laborers,  set 
apart  any  with  suspicious  symptoms. 

It  was  midnight  before  either  found  leisure  for  food 
or  rest,  and  then  Dane  knelt,  with  a  biscuit  in  one  hand, 
beside  the  little  medicine  chest  in  the  tent,  while  Max- 
well bent  over  a  medical  treatise  as  he  ate.  Several 
sick  men  lay  moaning  just  outside  the  illuminated 
canvas,  and  one,  apparently  in  delirium,  had  during 
the  last  hour  never  ceased  crooning  the  hammock- 
bearers'  song. 

"That  chanty  grows  wearisome,"  said  Maxwell  at 
length;  and,  because  Dane  was  overwrought,  his  com- 
panion's composure  jarred  upon  him. 

"Put  down  that  tin  and  hold  the  glass  for  me.     You 


PESTILENCE  175 

have  eaten  three  biscuits  already,  and  this  is  no  time 
for  feasting !  I'm  going  to  start  with  chlorodyne.  We 
found  it  good  in  South  America  when  we  could  give  it 
to  them  quick  enough;  but  these  fellows  have  an  irritat- 
ing trick  of  crawling  away  into  some  lair  to  die  quietly. 
There.  Give  this  to  the  first  two  poor  devils,  half 
each  by  measure." 

Maxwell  went  swiftly,  and  returned  very  grim  in  face. 

"Too  late/'  he  reported.  "One  is  cold  already; 
the  other  testified  that  there  is  but  one  Allah  as  I  bent 
over  him,  and  ended  in  a  gurgle.  Hallo!  What  is 
this?" 

Preceded  by  a  negro  carrying  a  torch,  Rideau, 
smoking  sedulously,  approached  the  tent,  and  halted 
well  clear  of  it.  The  man  was  not,  as  his  partners  had 
cause  to  know,  unduly  timid,  but  now  fear  was  plainly 
stamped  on  his  face,  which  the  red  glare  of  the  torch 
forced  up  against  the  gloom. 

"I  have  great  fear  of  this  sick,  and  make  proposition," 
he  said.  "I  go  take  all  the  boy  of  me  back  a  league 
into  the  forest,  and  make  other  camp.  If  any  he  is  fall 
ill,  I  with  all  possible  expedition  send  him  you." 

Both  of  the  listeners  found  heart  to  smile  at  the  latter 
sentence  before  Dane's  resentment  mastered  him. 

"It  is  particularly  considerate  of  him,  but  his  propo- 
sition has  some  sense  in  it,"  said  Maxwell  aside.  "You 
are  acting  surgeon-major,  Hilton.  What  do  you  sug- 
gest?" 

"You  can  go  straight  to  perdition,  or  anywhere  else 
that  pleases  you,  so  long  as  you  don't  waste  our  time!" 
thundered  Dane;  and  with  a  salute  which  expressed  no 
resentment,  but  only  relief,  Rideau  withdrew. 

' '  How  long  does  this  thing  generally  las t  ? "  asked  D  ane. 


176  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

"Sometimes  it  clears  a  village  out  in  a  fortnight, 
more  often  it  hangs  round  a  month,  or  even  longer, 
picking  out  odd  victims;  and  before  that  time  has  gone 
we  shall  have  the  rains. " 

"Which  will  prevent  any  further  mining,  probably 
cut  off  our  road  to  the  coast,  and  render  life  here  almost 
impossible,"  Dane  said  hoarsely. 

"Exactly.     There  can  be  no  more  mining  now.'7 

As  the  two  men's  eyes  met,  each  knew  just  what 
his  comrade  was  thinking. 

"We  must  see  them  through,"  said  Dane,  and  Max- 
well answered,  as  though  this  decision  had  never  been 
in  doubt:  "Of  course!" 

With  that  they  fell  to  work  again,  for  there  was 
much  to  do,  which  was  fortunate,  because,  otherwise, 
the  thought  of  what  both  would  certainly  lose  and  what 
one  was  risking  for  the  sake  of  naked  heathen,  many 
of  whom  were  little  higher  in  intelligence  than  dumb 
cattle,  might  have  maddened  them.  Still,  even  the 
most  stupid  had  trusted  the  white  men,  and,  in  their 
own  fashion,  served  them  well. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

AN  EVENTFUL  DECISION 

HTHE  weeks  that  followed  left  only  a  hazy  impression 
A  of  hurry,  effort,  fatigue  that  was  almost  overwhelm- 
ing, and  anxiety  which  spurred  wornout  mind  and  body 
to  further  action,  with  the  two  white  men  who  lived 
through  them.  Some  of  the  sick  they  cured,  and  though 
it  is  possible  their  lack  of  knowledge  hastened  the  end 
of  others,  their  intentions  at  least  were  benevolent,  and 
while  they  often  went  hungry  the  convalescent  were 
always  fed.  They  put  heart  into  the  hopeless  and  bur- 
ied the  dead,  stormed,  exhorted,  and  jested  by  turn  all 
day  long,  and  sat  watching  the  worst  cases  when  the  hot 
night  fell.  Dane  was  never  afterward  able  to  recollect 
the  exact  mixtures  he  dispensed,  which  Maxwell  said 
was  probably  fortunate;  but  as  a  result  of  their  labors, 
while  all  would  otherwise  have  perished,  part  at  least 
of  their  followers  escaped.  They  had'  also  capable 
assistants.  Amadu,  Maxwell's  man,  had  fought  under 
a  great  Emir  who  had  made  his  name  a  terror  in  the 
Soudan;  and  Monday,  so  Dane  gathered,  had  carried 
the  standard  of  a  successful  robber  chieftain  somewhere 
far  up  in  the  land  of  the  brown  men  who  swear  by  the 
Prophet;  but  both  had  the  full  courage  of  their  fatalist 
convictions,  and  what  their  masters  bade  them  that 
they  did.  The  rank  and  file  of  the  orderlies  were  thick- 
headed heathen  who  grinned  each  tune  their  leader 
stormed  at  them. 

177 


178  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

One  day  when  the  sick  were  recovering,  and  a  little 
hope  was  springing  up  again,  Dane,  staggering  half 
asleep  behind  his  bearer  detachment,  halted  when 
Maxwell  beckoned  him. 

"Get  on,  you  dusky  angels,  and  try  to  carry  that 
poor  devil  right-side-up/'  Dane  said.  "Monday,  tell 
them  hopeless  idiots  if  they  handle  the  other  fellow 
that  way  they'll  pull  his  head  off.  You  would  tempt 
the  most  patient  man  to  murder  some  of  you." 

The  bearers  beamed  upon  him  with  mouths  extended, 
and  Maxwell  laughed. 

"They  take  your  abuse  as  a  compliment,  Hilton; 
and  your  capabilities  become  apparent  by  degrees. 
Still,  after  the  success  which  has  attended  your  daring 
pharmaceutical  experiments,  one  could  hardly  be  aston- 
ished at  your  licking  even  yonder  most  unpromising 
raw  material  into  shape." 

"The  credit  is  to  necessity,"  replied  Dane,  surveying 
his  assistants  with  a  certain  air  of  pride.  "Those  are 
the  most  wooden-headed  niggers  in  Africa,  and  the  more 
I  swear  at  them  the  wider  they  grin;  but  if  I  wanted 
sulphur  from  the  pit,  and  told  them,  the  beggars  would 
go — and  get  it." 

"I  wish  we  were  both  fresher,"  Maxwell  said;  "be- 
cause there  is  another  worry  to  grapple  with.  The  man 
I  sent  over  to  Rideau  found  the  camp  empty,  and  this 
pinned  to  the  tree  his  tent  had  been  pitched  beneath." 

"If  Mr.  Rideau  desires  to  repeat  his  opinion  that  we 
should  set  them  all  to  work  it  is  as  well  he  does  it  in 
writing.  I  could  hardly  keep  my  hands  off  the  brute 
the  last  time  he  made  the  suggestion  in  person,"  an- 
swered Dane. 

"Read,  and  see,"  said  Maxwell,  holding  out  the  note; 


AN  EVENTFUL  DECISION  179 

and  because  Dane's  head  was  swimming  he  translated 
the  indifferent  French  with  difficulty.  The  message 
might  have  appeared  ambiguous  to  a  more  accomplished 
linguist.  Nevertheless,  he  gathered  from  it  that  their 
partner,  who  professed  a  total  ignorance  of  physics  and 
a  fear  of  contagion,  regretted  his  inability  to  render 
them  any  assistance,  and  had  decided  to  visit  a  head- 
man he  had  dealings  with  who  dwelt  at  a  considerable 
distance.  He  stated  that  none  of  his  boys  could  be 
induced  to  carry  a  message  to  the  stricken  camp. 

"  He  might  have  expressed  himself  more  plainly,  but 
it  is  plausible.  Do  you  attach  a  different  meaning?" 
Dane  asked. 

Maxwell,  instead  of  answering,  asked  another  ques- 
tion. 

"You  feel  tolerably  certain  that  we  have  seen  the 
worst  of  this  epidemic?" 

"Yes,"  was  the  answer.  "I  did  not,  however,  tell 
our  estimable  partner  so.  It  seemed  a  pity  to  relieve 
him  prematurely  of  what  he  called  his  fear  of  the  sick. 
Perhaps  I  was  wrong  in  this." 

" Pshaw!"  exclaimed  Maxwell.  "It  is  not  the  plague 
he  fears  the  most.  In  fact,  considering  that  he  must 
have  lived  through  one  or  two  outbreaks  already,  part, 
at  least,  of  his  fear  must  have  been  simulated.  If  you 
expect  to  see  Rideau  here  again  on  the  old  terms, 
Hilton,  you  are  mistaken." 

"His  absence  would  not  leave  me  disconsolate," 
said  Dane.  "In  that  case,  one  wonders  what  he  is 
afraid  of,  and  why  he  came?  Isn't  it  also  surprising 
that  he  should  abandon  his  share  of  the  gold?" 

"In  reply  to  the  first  query,  I  don't  know — but  we 
shall  doubtless  discover  in  good  time.  There  is  no 


180  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

difficulty  in  answering  the  rest.  He  came  to  see  if  the 
river  was  worth  exploitation,  and  to  pick  up  a  practical 
knowledge  of  the  necessary  operations.  His  share  of 
what  we  have  obtained  is,  after  all,  but  trifling  for  an 
avaricious  man  who  cherishes  a  grudge  against  you,  and 
desires  the  whole.  Two  men  alone  at  present  prevent 
him  from  obtaining  it,  and  the  life  of  any  white  man  is 
very  uncertain  in  this  country. " 

"A  grudge  against  me?"  Dane  queried. 

Maxwell  nodded. 

"Have  you  forgotten  Miss  Castro?  Your  powers  of 
attraction  may  prove  a  dangerous  gift,  Hilton." 

Dane  flushed  with  sudden  anger,  for  this  appeared 
to  him  ill-timed  levity;  but  Maxwell  continued  unheed- 
ing: 

"The  whole  complication  resembles  a  mosaic  puzzle, 
and  I  have  fitted  most  of  it  together.  One  or  two  pieces, 
however,  are  missing,  and  we  must  wait  until  accident 
supplies  them.  Meanwhile,  every  effort  to  expedite  our 
sick  men's  recovery  would  be  advisable." 

Maxwell  left  his  comrade  startled  and  uneasy.  Dane 
could  see  that  he  was  anxious,  and  they  already  had 
sufficient  to  try  their  endurance  without  the  addition 
of  a  haunting  fear.  There  was,  however,  no  remedy, 
and  they  continued  to  tend  the  sick,  setting  those  who 
had  recovered  to  work  as  the  pestilence  slackened  its 
grip.  So,  while  groups  of  naked  tribesmen  whose  tongue 
nobody  therein  could  understand  traveled  southward 
past  the  camp,  the  days  went  by  until  Maxwell  was 
supplied  with  one  missing  portion  of  his  mosaic.  One 
morning  a  seaboard  negro,  whose  leg  had  been  rendered 
useless  by  the  horrible  Guinea  worm  which  had  bur- 
rowed from  knee  to  ankle,  crawled  into  camp,  and  told 


AN  EVENTFUL  DECISION  181 

a  story  which  roused  both  listeners  to  suppressed  fury. 
Rideau  had  left  him  behind  crippled,  to  starve,  but 
with  many  sufferings  he  had  managed  to  drag  himself 
to  their  camp. 

"I  be  missionary  boy,  sah,  and  savvy  them  Juju 
palaver  be  all  dam  fraud,"  he  stated  in  the  coast  Eng- 
lish. "When  them  low  white  nigger  Rideau  lib  for 
them  first  river  by  the  Leopards'  country  he  send  one 
man  two  day  into  the  bush." 

"What  was  the  man  like?  How  that  boy  he  look?" 
asked  Maxwell. 

"Yellow  man  with  mark  on  front  of  him  head,  sah. 
He  be  fit  to  make  fetich  palaver." 

"Oh,"  commented  Maxwell.  "This  is  going  to  be 
very  interesting,  Hilton." 

"Two  night  go,"  continued  the  negro.  "Then  I 
look  them  white  man  he  wait  for  somebody  sitting  with 
a  pistol  outside  him  tent.  I  lib  for  behind  a  cotton  wood, 
where  he  not  done  see  me.  Bimeby,  two  leopard  come 
soffly,  sofHy,  and  stand  up  when  he  see  them.  The 
white  man  light  a  lamp  before  him  say:  '  Why  you  done 
play  them  fool  trick  with  me?" 

"You  were  too  frightened  to  crawl  away?"  Maxwell 
asked;  and  though  the  negro  evidently  trembled  at  the 
mere  recollection,  he  answered  boldly: 

"I  be  missionary  boy,  and  savvy  all  them  Juju 
palaver  humbug,  sah.  One  leopard  done  throw  off 
him  skin  and  sit  down  by  the  tent.  I  know  him  for 
the  man  with  the  mark  on  him.  '  How  much  you  want 
for  let  me  lib  for  your  country  and  come  back  again,' 
the  white  man  say,  and  they  all  talk  plenty.  Then 
the  white  man  say:  'I  leave  them  cloth  and  bead  and 
gun  in  the  bush,  and  when  I  lib  for  come  back  safe  you 


182  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

get  two  time  as  much,  but  you  see  them  other  white 
men  done  get  lost  or  sick  too  much  in  your  country.' 
Rideau  talk  more  plenty,  and  them  leopard  go  away. 
I  not  know  how.  I  see  him  one  hT  minute,  then  there 
be  no  more  leopard,  sah.  I  lib  for  say  nothing.  Sup- 
pose Rideau  guess  I  look  him  he  shoot  me,  sah.  The 
Lord  he  give  me  sense  too  much." 

"  Rideau  is  a  capable  rascal  and  this  explains  a  good 
deal,"  said  Maxwell,  when  he  had  handed  the  cripple 
over  to  the  Krooboy  cook.  "The  man  with  the  scarred 
forehead  is  clearly  an  influence  among  the  Leopards. 
Otherwise  Rideau  might  never  have  overtaken  us.  His 
prudence  in  promising  to  double  the  toll  demanded  on 
his  safe  return  strikes  me  as  highly  commendable;  and 
one  can  only  presume  that,  seeing  us  successful  in  spite 
of  his  efforts,  he  determined  to  cast  his  lot  in  with  us 
for  a  time." 

Dane's  answer  was  fierce  and  emphatic;  and  Maxwell 
smiled. 

"  Over-confidence  is  a  weakness  of  yours,  Hilton. 
Now  it  is  no  doubt  flattering  to  one's  pride  to  disdain 
petty  suspicions  and  precautions;  but  having  done  so, 
isn't  it  illogical  to  grow  feverishly  indignant  when  you 
are  victimized?" 

"You  need  not  waste  time  in  moralizing.  It  is  much 
more  necessary  to  discover  why  Rideau  cleared  out  in 
a  hurry,  and  what  he  is  doing  now." 

"I  don't  know,  but  it  will  be  high  time  to  move  when 
we  do.  Meanwhile,  we  can  only  wait.  It  will  become 
apparent  presently." 

Dane  left  him,  and  went  back  to  his  task,  stolidly 
determined  that  he  would  have  a  reckoning  withM. 
Victor  Rideau  before  he  sailed  from  Africa.  Hilton 


AN  EVENTFUL  DECISION  183 

Dane,  though  by  no  means  a  fool,  possessed  neither  his 
comrade's  power  of  deduction  nor  his  insight  into  the 
weakness  of  human  nature;  but  he  was,  nevertheless, 
likely  to  prove  an  even  more  dangerous  enemy  when  his 
natural  generosity,  being  abused,  had  changed  into 
vindictiveness.  It  is  generally  well  to  avoid  the  right- 
eous indignation  of  the  good-humored  man  when  his 
patience  is  exhausted;  and  Dane's  patience  was  not  of 
the  longest. 

The  time  dragged  slowly  by  until,  when  those  the 
plague  had  spared  were  well  on  the  way  to  recovery, 
chance  supplied  the  partners  with  the  final  clue.  A  man 
swathed  in  ragged  cotton  and  of  comparatively  light 
color  halted  one  morning  to  beg  a  little  food  at  their 
camp,  and  Maxwell  grew  eager  when  he  found  that 
Amadu  could  understand  him.  Headman  Shaillu's 
villages  had  been  stricken  by  the  plague,  he  said,  and 
that  ruler,  either  to  avoid  contagion  or  to  prevent  the 
spread  of  disaffection  among  his  people,  had  marched 
them  out  on  a  campaign  against  his  northern  neighbors. 
He  had  been  badly  beaten,  and  the  tribesmen  had  sum- 
moned every  petty  chieftain  who  had  suffered  by  his 
depredations  to  join  them  in  retaliating.  They  would 
probably  wait  until  the  rains  were  over,  the  stranger 
said,  though  this  was  not  certain;  but  once  they  started, 
they  would  spare  nothing  on  their  march;  and  as  their 
priests  had  a  special  animus  against  white  men,  he 
considered  they  would  certainly  storm  the  camp. 

It  was  dark  when  Dane  and  Maxwell  held  their  final 
conference,  and  they  sat  moodily  silent  a  while  before 
either  spoke.  The  sufferings  and  hardships  undergone 
had  left  their  mark  on  them;  it  is  possible  that  Maxwell's 
British  acquaintances  might  scarcely  have  recognized 


184  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

him,  as  he  sat  huddled,  as  it  were,  together  under  the 
smoky  lamp.  Even  his  ironical  humor  had  deserted 
him  along  with  every  personal  characteristic  save  the 
courage  and  certain  racial  instincts  that  were  ineradi- 
cable. Dane  was  reminded  of  an  ancient  portrait  in 
Culmeny  as  he  watched  him.  The  old  moss-trooper 
had  looked  much  the  same — lean  and  dour  and  grim; 
and  the  observer  could  recognize  the  same  baleful 
light  in  his  wolfish  eyes.  It  was  not  an  unnatural 
reversion,  for  the  customs  of  modern  Africa  are  not 
greatly  different  from  those  of  Britain  in  bygone  days. 

It  was  hotter  than  ever,  and  a  darkness  that  could  be 
felt  hung  over  the  tent. 

"We  have  had  several  of  these  talks,  Hilton,  but 
never  one  half  so  important  as  that  before  us  now," 
said  Maxwell  at  length.  "Rideau's  whole  intentions 
are  clear  at  last.  He  learned  what  was  threatening 
long  before  we  did,  and  profited  by  the  sickness  as  an 
excuse  for  escaping  and  leaving  us  to  our  fate.  The 
gold?  Please  wait  until  I  have  concluded.  These 
tribesmen  are  mere  predatory  nomads,  with  no  knowl- 
edge of  mining,  and  after  burning  every  village  they 
come  across  they  will  vanish  into  the  bush  again. 
Therefore,  our  partner  clearly  expects  that  if  the  pesti- 
lence fails  to  remove  us  the  spearmen  will;  and  he  no 
doubt  hopes  to  return  when  there  is  peace  again,  and 
clean  out  this  river  without  our  assistance." 

Dane  smote  the  camp  table  hard  with  his  fist,  and 
was  sullenly  pleased  to  see  that  he  had  not  lost  all  his 
strength,  for  one  of  the  thin  boards  split. 

"Then  I  solemnly  pledge  myself  to  carry  out  the 
second  portion  of  our  compact.  The  vile,  treacherous 
scoundrel  shall  not  escape  if  I  live,"  he  declared. 


AN  EVENTFUL  DECISION  185 

Maxwell  raised  his  hand,  but  there  was  an  omi- 
nous light  in  his  eyes  as  they  met  those  of  his  companion. 

"That  may  come  later;  but  in  the  first  place  the  se- 
verely practical  aspect  of  this  affair  requires  to  be  dealt 
with.  To  begin,  less  than  half  our  men  are,  even  yet, 
capable  of  steady  marching,  and  our  numbers  would  be 
quite  insufficient  to  convoy  those  too  weak  to  walk 
safely  through  a  hostile  country.  Therefore  we  have  to 
choose  between  two  evils.  The  first  possible  course 
would  be  to  leave  all  the  sick  and  weakly,  and  striking 
due  south,  not  by  the  way  we  came,  endeavor  to  reach 
the  coast  with  what  gold  we  have  won.  We  could  re- 
turn when  it  appeared  safe  to  do  so.  I  put  it  before 
you,  without  expressing  my  own  opinion,  dispassion- 
ately." 

Dane  did  not  falter,  but  he  remembered  that  in  all 
probability  there  was  gold  enough  in  the  river  to  enable 
him  to  market  his  patent  with  at  least  a  hope  of  success, 
and  this  implied  a  prospect  of  winning  Lilian.  Of  late 
his  hopes  that  he  would  eventually  do  so  had  grown 
steadily  stronger;  and  during  many  a  lonely  watch, 
when  he  recalled  her  delicate  beauty,  the  longing  for 
her  had  almost  mastered  him.  As  Maxwell  had  pointed 
out,  one  way  to  realize  his  ambitions  was  still  open; 
but  Dane  knew  that  he  could  not  go  home  with  the 
blood  of  the  men  who  had  trusted  him  upon  his  hands. 

"That  course  is  impossible!"  he  said  hoarsely. 

"Yes,"  agreed  Maxwell  with  impressive  quietness. 
"We  have,  it  is  said,  outgrown  superstition,  but  I  can't 
help  thinking  misfortune  would  follow  the  money  we 
made  that  way.  They  have  done  their  best  for  us, 
poor  devils.  Therefore,  we  come  to  the  second  alter- 
native. This  camp  could  be  further  stockaded  into  a 


186     THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

very  strong  position,  and  you  or  I  must  hold  it  against 
all  comers.  While  one  of  us  does  so,  the  other,  with  a 
couple  of  picked  men,  will  strike  straight  for  the  coast, 
catch  the  first  mailboat,  and,  if  he  can't  persuade  an 
agent  to  believe  and  finance  him  by  the  sight  of  a  few 
ounces  of  gold,  cable  home  for  a  credit  to  be  opened 
by  telegraph  on  some  big  trading  firm.  My  bankers 
should  manage  that.  Then  he  will  return  with  a  strong 
expedition.  Speed  affords  the  one  chance  for  success, 
for  if  Rideau  heard  of  the  at  tempt,  he  and  the  Leopards 
would  frustrate  it;  and  both  are  doubtless  watchful; 
but  two  or  three  men  traveling  night  and  day  might 
escape  observation.  They  must  start  unburdened, 
with  just  sufficient  food,  abandoning  all  idea  of  carrying 
treasure.  The  one  question  is,  who  is  to  go?" 

Dane  was  conscious  of  a  grim  satisfaction.  Every- 
thing pointed  to  him  as  the  one  to  stay,  and  he  had  no 
desire  to  return  home  with  nothing  more  than  expecta- 
tions; while,  harassed  as  he  had  been  by  many  enemies, 
deserted,  and  betrayed,  the  prospect  of  trying  conclu- 
sions with  an  open  foe  came  as  a  relief  to  him. 

"You  have  the  money,  and  brains,  Carsluith,  and  you 
must  go,"  he  said.  "I  have  the  brute  strength,  and, 
I  think,  to-night  some  of  its  ferocity.  I  can  promise 
that  all  the  savages  in  Africa  shall  not  turn  me  out  of 
this  camp.  Neither  would  I  be  sorry  if  they  attempted 
it." 

As  Maxwell  turned  toward  him  the  smoldering  fire 
was  plainer  in  his  eye. 

"Are  you  not  forgetting  that  other  men  are  born 
with  the  same  passions?  Break  that  twig  into  unequal 
lengths,  shut  your  eyes,  and  draw.  The  man  who  picks 
the  longest  stays." 


AN  EVENTFUL  DECISION  187 

They  were  equal  at  the  second  draw,  and  Dane 
grew  feverishly  anxious  as  he  thrust  in  his  hand  again. 
Then  he  threw  the  twig  on  the  table  triumphantly. 

"It  points  to  me,"  he  said. 

"So  be  it,"  Maxwell  answered  quietly.  "Then  we 
will  get  ready  two  loads  of  provisions.  I  start  at  sun- 
rise to-morrow,  taking  Amadu  and  one  other  man  with 
me." 

The  night  was  far  spent  before  the  preparations  were 
finished  and  they  lay  down  to  sleep;  and  Maxwell  was 
dressed  and  equipped  when  his  comrade  awakened. 

"I  could  not  bring  myself  to  disturb  you  earlier," 
he  said,  when  Dane  glanced  at  him  reproachfully. 
"We  will  eat  a  morsel  of  breakfast,  and  then  I  will 
start." 

Dane  could  swallow  nothing,  but  Maxwell  ate  a  little, 
though  he  seemed  to  force  his  appetite.  Then  they 
walked  silently  together  as  far  as  the  stockade  gate, 
where  Maxwell  turned  and  held  out  his  hand. 

"God  knows  whether  I  will  reach  the  coast.  This 
gold,  with  whatever  you  can  add  to  it,  is  yours  if  I  fail," 
he  said.  "  If  I  live  I  will  come  back  and  join  you  should 
I  come  alone!" 

"Whether  you  come  late  or  early  you  will  find  me 
or  my  bones  here,"  Dane  answered  huskily,  for  there 
was  a  painful  contraction  in  his  throat. 

Their  hands  met  in  a  strenuous  grasp,  and  with  a 
hoarse  "Good  luck!"  following  him,  Maxwell  strode 
out  through  the  gate.  Dane  watched  him  descend  the 
slope  to  the  river,  while  all  the  camp  boys  capable  of 
motion  clustered  about  the  one  who  stayed,  and  Mon- 
day squatted  at  his  feet.  They  were  all  very  silent  un- 
til a  murmur  went  up  as  the  white  man,  halting  on  the 


188  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

edge  of  the  forest,  turned  toward  them.  He  raised  his 
shapeless  sun-hat  high  above  his  head,  answering  Dane's 
salute;  and  long  afterward  the  latter  sighed  each  time 
that  lonely  figure  rose  out  of  the  blurred  memories. 

A  horrible  sense  of  loneliness  oppressed  the  man 
left  behind,  and  there  came  upon  him  an  irrepressible 
desire  for  speech. 

"He  has  gone,  Monday/'  he  said,  patting  the  naked 
shoulder  of  the  big  dark-skinned  alien,  who  looked  up 
at  him  sympathetically;  "but  if  he  lives  he  will  certainly 
come  back;  and  you  and  I  in  the  meantime  are  going  to 
keep  his  place  warm  for  him.  You  don't  understand? 
Well,  you  probably  will  when  several  hundred  yelling 
devils  come  round  this  way  at  midnight  wanting  to  get 
in.  Still,  I  don't  think  we'll  make  a  bad  show  between 
us,  even  then." 

The  dusky  man  caught  a  glimpse  of  his  meaning,  for 
he  grinned  and  nodded  when  Dane  continued: 

"You  don't  feel  quite  sure  what  I'm  saying  yet.  I 
don't  care,  so  long  as  you  sit  up  and  listen  patiently. 
I'm  feeling  very  low  and  lonely  this  morning,  Mon- 
day." 

The  listener  appeared  to  consider,  and  then  rose  up- 
right, saying  solemnly: 

"Cappy  Maxwell,  say  we  lib  for  this  place,  then  we 
dam  well  lib.  Cappy  Maxwell  fine  white  man  too 
much.  Suppose  them  low  bushmen  come  we  dam  well 
go  chop  him." 


CHAPTER  XV 

THE  BOARDING  OF  THE  KABUNDA 

IT  was  a  hot  and  steamy  night  when  trader  Redmond 
sat  with  his  comrade  Gilby  in  an  upper  room  of  their 
factory  perched  above  a  beach  swept  by  smoking  surf, 
which  was  even  heavier  than  usual  that  night.  The 
factory  was  not  a  desirable  residence,  even  for  West 
Africa,  where  there  are  not  many  places  where  a  fastidi- 
ous white  man  would  care  to  live;  but  neither  Redmond 
nor  his  comrade  was  particular,  and  so  long  as  they  could 
make  a  good  percentage  on  the  factory's  turnover,  they 
disregarded  the  dirt,  smells,  and  insect  legions.  Red- 
mond was  pale  and  round-shouldered;  Gilby  lank  and 
tall;  and  their  speech  was  usually  vivid  and  their 
tempers  quick. 

Redmond  strolled  toward  the  window  and  swore  at 
the  surf.  He  had  some  justification,  for  the  whole 
heave  of  the  southern  ocean  hurled  itself  thundering 
upon  the  hammered  beach.  The  factory  windows 
rattled  as  each  breaker  dissolved  into  long  sheets  of 
foam  which  surged  far  up  the  trembling  sand,  while 
the  steamy  haze  of  spray  veiled  almost  to  its  summit 
the  lofty  bluff  behind  the  edifice. 

"No  use  lighting  the  signal  fire.  There's  not  a  surf- 
boat  on  the  coast  could  run  a  load  of  produce  through. 
The  Kabunda  can  either  blow  her  whistle  off  or  go  on 
again,"  he  said.  "It's  even  too  bad  to  venture  off 

189 


190  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

light,  and  screw  an  odd  bottle  of  liquor  out  of  her 
purser." 

"It  always  is  when  the  markets  are  rising  and  we 
have  cargo  waiting,"  grumbled  Gilby.  "As  to  the 
liquor,  you  can  go  yourself  if  you  want  it.  I'm  not 
over-keen  on  playing  that  game  with  the  Kabunda's 
new  factotum  again.  It  takes  a  good  deal  to  stir  me, 
but  that  man  has  no  sense  of  humor,  and  was  posi- 
tively insulting.  ' No  cargo  in  your  confounded  boat? ' 
growls  he.  'Well,  the  next  time  you  stop  this  mail- 
boat  just  because  you're  thirsty,  we'll  heave  you  over 
the  raH!'" 

Redmond  chuckled  dryly.  The  steamboat  officials 
who  ply  along  that  coast  have  a  good  deal  to  ruffle  them; 
and  it  is  exasperating  for  the  master  of  a  steamer, 
attracted  by  flag  or  fire  signal,  to  anchor  off  a  dangerous 
beach  expecting  several  boat-loads  of  cargo  at  least, 
and  then  discover  that  the  shipper  desires  only  a  piece 
of  ice  or  gratis  liquor. 

"Better  wait  for  the  old  Luala.  She's  the  canteen 
ship.  Still,  we'll  sit  up  until  we  hear  the  Kabunda's 
whistle.  It  sounds  homelike,"  he  said. 

Gilby  nodded  approval,  for  the  coast-hunting 
steamers  were  the  only  link  connecting  the  two  lonely 
men  with  civilization,  and  there  were  times  when  they 
acquired  a  childish  fear  of  losing  all  touch  with  it. 

Redmond  sat  smoking  in  silence,  while  Gilby  list- 
lessly turned  over  an  old  English  newspaper,  and  huge 
brown  cockroaches  crawled  up  and  down  the  mildewed 
walls. 

"Hallo!"  Redmond  exclaimed  suddenly.  "There's 
a  man  with  boots  on  crossing  the  compound.  Who,  by 
all  that's  wonderful,  can  it  be?" 


THE  BOARDING  OF  THE  KABUNDA  191 

"The  Frenchman  from  Swamp  Creek,  looking  for 
drinks,"  suggested  Gilby. 

"Guyot's  dying  of  fever  this  time,  sure,  his  nigger 
said.  There's  no  other  white  man  within  marching 
distance;  but  whoever  it  is  is  coming  up  the  stairs!" 

Projected  against  the  darkness  outside,  a  strange, 
bedraggled  figure  stood  in  the  door.  The  man's  hair 
was  wet  and  long,  the  half-closed  eyes  beneath  it 
glittered  feverishly,  and  the  bones  of  the  haggard  face 
showed  through  the  pallid  skin.  Thorn-rent  rags 
barely  decently  covered  the  bony  limbs  beneath  them, 
and  the  mire  of  many  a  league  of  swamp  clung  about 
him  to  the  knees.  Behind  loomed  the  figure  of  a  negro 
leaning  on  a  rifle. 

Moving  unevenly,  the  stranger  advanced  into  the 
room,  and  Redmond  positively  recoiled  before  him. 

"Who  in  the  name  of  perdition  are  you,  and  where 
do  you  come  from?"  he  gasped. 

The  newcomer,  instead  of  answering  the  question, 
caught  at  the  table  as  he  asked  another: 

"What  day  of  the  month  is  this,  and  have  they 
changed  the  homeward  mailboat's  time  bill?" 

"The  tenth,  and  the  Kabunda  should  pass  to-night," 
said  Gilby,  staring  blankly  at  him. 

"Thank  heaven!"  was  the  response.  "I  am  just  in 
time!  You  ought  to  know  me.  I  am  Maxwell,  and 
have  been  prospecting  for  Niven'st  gold  beyond  the 
Leopards'  country." 

"Good  Lord!"  broke  from  Redmond.  "Stir  round, 
Gilby,  instead  of  gaping  there !  Fetch  out  some  whisky, 
and  kick  up  the  steward  boy!  Can't  you  see  there's  a 
white  man  starving?  Sit  down  before  you  fall  over, 
Mr.  Maxwell." 


192  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

Maxwell  gulped  down  a  draught  of  the  spirit  forced 
upon  him,  and  sank  into  the  chair  his  host  dragged 
forward,  while  there  was  a  crash  and  a  howl  on  the 
veranda  where  Gilby  fell  over  the  sleeping  steward 
boy. 

"He  means  well,  but  can't  help  having  been  born 
clumsy,"  said  the  trader  apologetically.  "Lie  right 
back  there,  and  don't  talk  until  you've  eaten.  Oh,  I 
see — brought  a  nigger  with  you.  Tell  the  cook  to 
stuff  the  black  man,  Gilby." 

When  food  was  set  before  him,  Maxwell  ate  raven- 
ously; then  leaning  forward  in  his  chair,  he  looked  at 
his  hosts. 

"I  must  thank  you  for  your  kindness,  and  ask  another 
favor,"  he  said.  "It  is  of  vital  consequence  that  I 
should  catch  the  Kabunda  to-night.  I  will  pay  up  to 
twenty  pounds  for  a  passage  off  to  her." 

The  pair  stared  at  him,  and  there  was  a  sceptical 
smile  on  Gilby's  lips.  It  was  clear  that  he  doubted  the 
ragged  adventurer's  ability  to  redeem  his  promise. 

"It  can't  be  done,"  declared  Redmond.  "Our  surf- 
boat  has  a  plank  badly  split;  and  if  she  hadn't  there's  not 
a  man  on  all  this  coast  could  run  you  off  to-night." 

"Nevertheless,  if  you  will  listen  a  few  minutes,  and 
treat  what  I  tell  you  in  strict  confidence,  I  think  one 
of  you  will "  said  Maxwell,  determining  to  trust  them 
in  part. 

As  he  told  the  story,  the  incredulous  smile  faded 
from  the  faces  of  his  listeners. 

"You  can  understand  the  necessity  for  my  desperate 
hurry  now,"  he  concluded.  "  My  partner  is  left  alone, 
save  for  a  handful  of  sickly  niggers,  with  the  bushmen 
coming  down,  and  his  life  may  depend  upon  my  catch- 


THE  BOARDING  OF  THE  KABUNDA  193 

ing  that  steamer.  I  will  leave  this  packet  of  gold  dust, 
which  I  had  intended  to  use  for  traveling  expenses,  as 
the  price  of  my  passage." 

Redmond  opened  the  leather  bag  tendered  him,  and 
Gilby  dropped  acid  upon  part  of  its  contents.  Then 
there  was  silence,  until  Redmond  spoke  with  a  naive 
directness  which  called  up  the  faintest  flicker  of  amuse- 
ment into  Maxwell's  eyes. 

"It  is  quite  genuine,  and  we  believe  you.  Rideau's 
a  hard  case,  and  we'd  stake  a  good  deal  to  get  even 
with  him  after  a  certain  game  he  played  us;  but  our 
folks  at  home  are  so  confoundedly  particular,  and  you 
wouldn't  find  an  agent  on  the  coast  willing  to  speculate 
in  mines  beyond  Shaillu's  country.  You  see,  if  you 
let  us  in,  the  auditors  would  set  off  the  sum  against  our 
salary.  Steady;  I  haven't  quite  finished  yet.  We're 
not  fastidious,  either  of  us,  but  we  haven't  come  down 
to  screwing  money  out  of  a  countryman's  necessity; 
so  we're  open  to  do  the  best  we  can  for  you.  Now  take 
back  your  gold,  and  be  hanged  to  you!" 

"My  sentiments,  too!"  nodded  Gilby.  "Redmond 
can  talk  sensibly  when  he  likes.  It  looks  uncommonly 
like  suicide,  but  as  my  place  down  under  can't  be 
much  worse  than  this  one,  I'm  open  to  chance  drowning 
with  you.  I'll  go  out,  and  fill  my  boat  boys  up  with 
trade  gin  now.  They're  tolerably  daring  beggars, 
but  they'd  never  face  it  sober." 

An  hour  later  Maxwell  and  the  two  traders  stood 
upon  the  roaring  beach  amidst  a  crowd  of  black  men. 
Steamy  spray  whirled  about  them,  and  veiled  half  the 
palm-crowned  bluff  from  whose  summit  a  crimson  flame 
leaped  up;  and  each  time  the  white  haze  thinned,  two 
lights  reeled  wildly  through  the  blackness  out  at  sea. 


194  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

Between  these  and  the  beach  a  succession  of  great  rollers 
reared  their  crests  of  phosphorescent  flame,  and  the  hoot 
of  the  steamer's  whistle  was  but  faintly  audible  through 
the  roar  they  made.  A  picked  crew  of  brawny  negroes 
chattered  about  the  big  surf -boat  they  held  upright  on 
rollers  just  clear  of  the  surges  which  raced  up  the 
sand. 

"It  does  not  look  nice.  In  fact,  I've  seldom  seen  it 
worse,  but  we'll  take  our  chances  when  those  big  ones 
have  run  in, "  said  Gilby.  "  Get  into  the  boat  Maxwell, 
and  take  care  when  the  rest  of  us  follow  in  a  hurry  that 
we  don't  fall  over  you.  Hyah  you  Krooboy,  all  be  fit 
and  ready!" 

Huge  breakers  usually  run  in  series,  and  when  the 
last  of  the  larger  ones  had  crumbled  with  a  thunderous 
roar,  burying  the  half-mile  sweep  of  sand  in  foam  from 
end  to  end,  there  was  a  heaving  of  muscular  shoulders, 
and  clamorous  black  men  floundered  waist-deep  through 
the  backwash  dragging  at  the  boat.  She  was  large  and 
heavy,  but  thirty  pairs  of  strong  hands  made  light  work, 
and  when  a  dozen  amphibious  Kroos  had  swung  them- 
selves on  board  the  rest  toiled  almost  shoulder-deep  in 
hissing  froth  while  the  sand  streamed  seaward  under 
them.  The  craft's  stern  alone  stuck  fast,  and  Redmond 
shouted  himself  breathless  as  he  braced  his  shoulders 
beneath  her  quarter,  knowing  that  unless  they  could 
drive  her  clear  boat  and  crew  would  be  rolled  over  to- 
gether when  the  next  sea  came  in. 

"Shove,  you  black  imps,  shove  before  them  sharks  go 
chop  you!"  he  cried. 

They  made  a  last  effort,  the  boat  slid  clear.  Twelve 
three-tongued  paddles  smote  the  water  together,  and 
Redmond  watched  the  craft  rise  almost  upright  with 


THE  BOARDING  OF  THE  KABUNDA 195 

bows  buried  in  froth  and  seafire  as  another  majestic 
breaker  came  rolling  in.  Then  he  turned  and  raced 
shoreward  for  his  life,  with  an  acre  of  foam  close  behind 
him.  When  he  halted  again  the  surf-boat  had  vanished 
into  the  hollow  of  the  sea,  but  the  howling  of  those  who 
paddled  her,  and  the  helmsman's  sulphurous  encourage- 
ment, rising  above  the  roar  of  waters,  betokened  her 
safety. 

"Gilby's  no  fool  in  a  surf-boat,  anyway,"  he  mused, 
as  he  went  back  dripping  to  the  factory. 

Another  hour  had  passed  when  the  boat  was  flung 
upon  the  beach  with  a  crash  which  rent  her  damaged 
plank  from  end  to  end;  and  the  soaked  white  man  who 
sprang  out  of  her  hurried  to  the  factory  with  his  proud 
display  of  two  bottles  of  claret,  and  one,  partly-empty, 
of  liqueur,  besides  a  piece  of  ice  in  flannel,  and  a  cigar 
box. 

"The  time  was  too  short,  or  I  might  have  done 
better,"  he  explained.  "Had  only  a  few  minutes  to 
tax  the  skipper  and  mates  in,  while  the  old  man  wasn't 
over-pleased  about  stopping  for  one  passenger.  Boat 
was  half -full  when  we  got  alongside,  and  Maxwell  too 
weak  to  climb  the  ladder.  They  hove  him  on  board  with 
the  crane,  wrong  side  uppermost,  and  half-dazed  appar- 
ently. The  boat  was  plunging  wildly,  and  Sorrowful 
Tom  too  drunk  to  fix  the  sling.  Taking  things  all 
around,  it's  a  mercy  we  didn't  drown  him." 

"You're  a  good  man  in  a  boat,"  Redmond  conceded. 
"Still,  you  have  very  little  sense.  Fancy  making  a 
run  of  that  kind  and  coming  ashore  with — claret!" 

While  Dane  and  Maxwell  fought  the  plague  in  Africa, 
Lilian  Chatterton  and  the  young  clergyman  in  charge 


196  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

of  that  parish  walked  side  by  side  down  the  street  of  a 
village  in  North  Britain  one  afternoon.  The  village 
was  neither  picturesque  nor  prosperous  just  then,  for 
there  was  a  scarcity  of  work  at  the  quarries,  and  for 
weeks  together  hard  frost  had  rendered  all  stone-cutting 
impossible.  A  bitter  wind  sighed  about  the  low  stone 
houses  which  rose  dripping  in  unlovely  simplicity  from 
the  muddy  street,  while  an  air  of  stolid,  uncomplaining 
poverty  was  stamped  upon  the  faces  of  the  men  who 
lounged  idly  where  they  could  find  a  shelter  in  the  lee 
of  a  building.  Miss  Chatterton  had  not  enjoyed  good 
health  that  winter,  and  the  surroundings  depressed  her. 
Neither  did  she  find  the  vista  of  bleak  hillside,  snow- 
streaked  moor,  and  lowering  sky  much  more  cheerful, 
and  she  was  glad  when  her  companion  broke  the  silence. 

"It  is  not  exhilarating  weather,  and  this  has  been  a 
hard  winter  for  the  poor,"  he  said.  "Unfortunately, 
we  have  had  rather  more  of  them  than  usual  with  us  of 
late,  and  the  sick  would  have  suffered  considerably  if  it 
had  not  been  for  your  kindness. " 

"I  have  done  little/'  Lilian  replied;  "but  they  are 
somewhat  hard  to  help." 

The  Reverend  Andrew  Rae  laughed. 

"That  is  the  simple  truth.  We  are  not  an  effusive 
race,  and  it  sometimes  hurts  us  to  receive  a  favor.  Still, 
though  they  would  rather  perish  than  express  it,  I  fancy 
most  of  them  would  on  opportunity  prove  their  grati- 
tude. I  have  been  wondering  if  the  worthy  Robert 
Johnstone's  opinions  have  been  too  much  for  you, 
having  noticed  that  his  house,  or  rather  his  son's  house, 
is  the  only  one  in  the  village  you  have  not  entered.  It 
surprised  me,  since  his  daughter  used  to  sew  for  you,  and 
has  been  ailing  lately. " 


THE  BOARDING  OF  THE  KABUNDA  197 

"It  is  some  time  since  Mary  Johnstone  did  any  work 
for  me, "  said  Lilian,  and  the  clergyman  wondered  at  the 
coldness  of  her  tone. 

"She  is  a  very  hard-working  girl,  and  as  she  has  been 
lying  helpless  for  several  weeks,  would  it  not  appear 
unkind  if  you  made  her  the  one  exception?  I  want  you 
to  come  in  with  me  now. " 

Drawing  the  girl's  arm  lightly  through  his  own, 
he  marched  her  up  to  the  doorway  before  she  quite 
grasped  his  intentions,  and  halted  in  front  of  the  man 
who  lounged  there  regarding  them  with  undisguised 
hostility.  He  was  not  an  attractive  person,  and  did 
not  look  like  an  abstainer  from  alcoholic  liquor,  but 
just  then  he  was  evidently  in  the  more  aggressive 
humor  because,  for  the  time  being,  he  was  wholly 
sober. 

"We  are  coming  in  for  a  few  minutes  to  see  your 
daughter,"  announced  Rae. 

The  man  did  not  move  an  inch,  and  his  person  barred 
the  entrance. 

"Will  ye  no  wait  until  ye  are  invitit?"  he  inquired 
sardonically.  "Still,  if  there  is  anything  good  in  yon 
basket  ye  can  leave  it  with  me. " 

A  grimy  hand  descended  into  the  basket  Rae  car- 
ried and  reappeared  clutching  the  neck  of  a  bottle, 
while  a  derisive  grin  suffused  the  speaker's  unwashed 
countenance. 

"I'm  thinking  I'll  just  keep  it  with  thanks.  It's 
whiles  more  comforting  than  tracts. " 

The  Reverend  Andrew  Rae  had  perhaps  studied  more 
than  theology  at  a  certain  university,  for  there  was  a 
twinkle  in  his  eyes  as  he  laid  one  hand  on  Johnstone's 
wrist. 


198  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

" Not  so  fast ! "  he  said.  "That  is  Miss  Chatterton's 
property,  and  I  did  not  hear  you  ask  her  permission." 

He  used  no  apparent  violence,  but  his  fingers  tight- 
ened steadily,  and  Johnstone  gasped  with  astonishment 
as  he  relinquished  his  hold  upon  the  bottle. 

"Am  I  to  be  insulted  in  my  own  house? "  he 
cried.  "Away  with  ye!  A  free  man's  dwelling  is  his 
castle." 

"Havers!"  exclaimed  a  voice  behind  them;  and  a 
neatly  dressed  young  man  joined  the  group.  "If  it's 
anybody's  castle  it's  the  man's  who  pays  the  rent,  and 
that's  more  than  Rab  Johnstone  has  done  for  long,  I'm 
thinking.  If  ye  an'  Miss  Chatterton  are  for  stepping  in 
to  see  Mary  we'd  take  it  kindly,  sir." 

Johnstone  senior  slouched  away  down  the  street, 
frowning  scornfully. 

"I  am  glad  to  see  you  have  prospered  since  you  took 
to  honest  ways,  Jim,"  Rae  said. 

"It's  small  thanks  to  any  one  but  Mr.  Dane.  He  was 
no  too  particular  to  help  a  poor  man,  ye  see." 

"Was  that  it?"  asked  Rae,  a  trifle  awkwardly. 
"You  are  surely  not  turning  back,  Miss  Chatterton!" 

Lilian  was  certainly  about  to  retreat;  but  being  a 
young  woman  of  spirit,  she  determined  to  make  the  best 
of  it  when  the  man,  opening  another  door,  announced: 

"Miss  Chatterton  an'  the  minister  to  see  ye,  Mary. " 

She  entered  the  poorly  furnished  room  the  next 
moment,  but  saw  nothing  of  its  interior,  for  her  eyes 
were  fixed  upon  the  sick  girl,  who  lay  on  a  dilapidated 
sofa.  Rae  noticed  the  contrast  between  his  companion 
and  the  seamstress.  Miss  Chatterton  was  a  very  dainty 
figure  in  costly  furs,  and  the  slight  trace  of  haughtiness 
became  her.  The  seamstress  was  pale,  and  hollow  in 


THE  BOARDING  OF  THE  KABUNDA  199 

face,  with  the  sign  of  poverty  stamped  upon  her,  for  the 
faded  shawl  about  her  shoulders  and  the  little  ragged 
garment  told  the  same  story. 

Rae  soon  became  conscious  that  there  was  a  latent 
hostility  between  the  women,  and  he  felt  it  incumbent 
on  him  to  break  the  silence. 

"I  am  glad  to  see  you  better,"  he  said;  "but  you 
should  not  work  too  soon.  You  must  lie  still  and  re- 
cover completely,  because  there  are  a  number  of  custo- 
mers waiting  for  you.  Mrs.  Gordon  told  me  she  was 
keeping  quite  a  large  order  back  until  you  were  fit  to 
undertake  it." 

Lilian  had  been  present  when,  by  dint  of  dogged  per- 
sistence, the  reverend  gentleman  had  secured  a  reluctant 
promise  to  employ  his  protegee,  and  she  wondered 
whether  all  his  sex,  without  exception,  could  be  deluded 
by  a  pretty  face.  S  he  was  forced  to  admit  that  men  of  un- 
cultivated taste  might  consider  Miss  Johnstone  pretty. 

"Poor  folk  cannot  afford  to  be  idle  long,  an'  my  wee 
sisters  cannot  go  ragged,"  replied  the  sick  girl.  "Still, 
I'm  no  complaining.  Jim  has  helped  me  bravely,  and 
we're  winning  through  a  hard  winter  well,  thanks  to  the 
gentleman  who  befriended  him. " 

Rae  observed  that  the  speaker  flashed  a  glance  at 
Miss  Chatterton,  whose  face  remained  icily  indifferent. 
Feeling  that  the  situation  was  becoming  strained,  he 
turned  toward  the  boy. 

"Being  away  at  the  time,  I  never  quite  got  to  the 
bottom  of  what  preceded  your  acquittal.  Do  you  mind 
telling  me,  Jim?" 

"It's  no  great  secret,  an'  all  to  the  credit  of  the  man 
who  helped  me.  Weel,  I  was  locked  up,  charged  with 
poaching  and  wounding." 


200  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

"Innocently,  I  hope,"  said  Rae;  and  there  was  a 
trace  of  Caledonian  dryness  in  Johnstone's  reply. 

"Ye  will  mind  the  saying  about  speiring  no  questions 
and  being  telt  less  lies.  Meanwhile  two  or  three 
others  consul  tit  with  Lawyer  Davidson,  and  he  said 
conviction  would  be  certain  if  Mr.  Dane  could  swear  to 
me.  Otherwise,  he  suspectit  I  would  go  free.  Then 
Mary  would  see  Mr.  Dane  for  the  sake  of  the  bairns.  I 
was  sore  against  it,  but  they  had  me  jailed,  an'  what 
could  I  do?  Well,  she  wrote  asking  him  to  meet  her 
by  the  Hallows  Brig,  and  Mr.  Dane  e'en  promised  to  do 
his  best  for  me,  an'  tell  nobody.  May  be  he  could  no  be 
quite  certain.  Ye  will  mind  there  was  no  moon  just 
then,  and  the  night  was  thick,  Mr.  Rae. " 

"I  have  heard  that  no  man  is  expected  to  testify 
against  himself,"  said  the  reverend  gentleman  dryly. 

"That's  what  Davidson  telt  the  fiscal,"  continued 
Johnstone,  with  a  laugh.  "Says  he,  'It's  the  business 
o'  your  witnesses  to  convict  him';  an'  I'm  no  denying 
that  they  did  their  best,  all  but  Mr.  Dane.  He  just 
stuck  to  his  story — it  was  dark,  an'  while  the  man  he 
grappled  with  was  like  to  me,  he  could  swear  to  nobody 
who  had  just  kicked  him  hard  upon  the  knee. " 

Johnstone  added  further  details,  and  then  looked 
hard  at  the  clergyman,  as  though  expecting  him  to  take 
up  the  challenge  when  he  concluded,  "May  be  there  are 
folks  who  lightly  Mr.  Dane  for  what  he  done,  but  it  was 
him  an'  no  other  who  made  an  honest  man  of  me,  f  orby 
a  promo  tit  foreman  home  on  a  holiday. " 

"I  am  not  a  lawyer, "  said  Rae.  "It  is  therefore  not 
my  business  to  judge  him ;  and  you  need  not  stare  at  me. 
I  already  believed  Mr.  Dane  to  be  a  kindly  gentleman. 
I  am  also  open  to  admit  that  he  did  more  than  either  I 


THE  BOARDING  OF  THE  KABUNDA201 

or  my  predecessor  could  accomplish.     We  are  not,  how- 
ever, all  friends  of  big  contractors,  you  see." 

Johnstone  grinned  in  answer  to  the  last  thrust,  while 
Lilian  felt  thankful  that  she  sat  in  a  shadowy  corner, 
for  the  simple  story  which  bore  the  truth  stamped  upon 
the  face  of  it,  had  stirred  her  strangely.  The  action 
narrated  was  characteristic  of  the  man  who  was  risking 
his  life  in  Africa.  She  knew  that  he  was  very  generous, 
and  could  be  loyal  to  a  pledge,  even  to  his  disadvantage. 
It  was  equally  evident  that  the  young  workman  with 
his  unconcealed  dislike  to  his  benefactor's  class  would 
be  very  unlikely  to  shut  his  eyes  to  any  intrigue  between 
Dane  and  his  sister.  Yet,  though  Lilian  was  angry  with 
herself  for  the  thought,  it  was  possible  that  the  brother 
might  have  been  deceived,  and  she  felt  that  she  must 
learn  the  truth.  The  seamstress  said  nothing,  and  it 
dawned  upon  Rae  that  his  presence  was  superfluous;  so, 
making  the  first  excuse  available,  he  took  his  departure, 
and  Johnstone  with  him. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

ILLUMINATION 

WHEN  the  two  men  went  out  Miss  Chatterton 
discovered  that  she  had  undertaken  a  very  diffi- 
cult task.  The  seamstress  lay  still  looking  at  her, 
evidently  expectant,  but  saying  nothing.  She,  it  ap- 
peared, felt  herself  mistress  of  the  position.  Lilian  felt 
that  the  silence  was  growing  painful,  and  determined 
to  attack  the  subject  boldly. 

"Mr.  Dane  has  clearly  been  a  good  iriend  to  your 
brother,  but  may  I  ask  whether  that  evening  at  the 
Hallows  Bridge  was  the  only  time  you  spoke  to  him?" 

A  flush  crept  into  the  sick  girPs  cheeks,  and  a  hard- 
ness into  her  eyes. 

"I  was  expecting  ye  would  ask  me.  What  would  ye 
say  if  I  did  not  answer?" 

"  Probably  nothing, "  returned  Lilian,  quietly.  "  Mr. 
Dane  is,  as  we  know,  somewhat  impulsive,  as  well  as 
generous.  Why  do  you  tell  me  that  you  expected  such 
a  question?" 

Mary  Johnstone  painfully  raised  herself  on  one  elbow. 

"Ye  are  a  grand  lady,  but  hard,  I  think,  as  some  folk 
would  call  ye  bonny.  I  am  a  poor  sewing  woman  with 
the  need  to  strive  hard,  an'  always,  to  keep  hunger  from 
the  door — but  in  the  hearts  of  us  there  is  no  that  differ- 
ence between  you  an'  me.  No — bide  ye  and  listen. " 

Lilian  had  risen,  but  she  sat  down  again.  Something 
in  the  girl's  voice  and  manner  compelled  her  attention, 

202 


ILLUMINATION  203 

for  the  seamstress  spoke  as  equal  to  equal  on  the  basis  of 
their  common  humanity. 

"I  owe  ye  little,  Miss  Chatterton.  What  ye  paid,  I 
earned,  an'  some  of  it  hardly,  but  when  ye  bade  me  come 
no  more  to  The  Larches,  with  no  other  word,  there  was 
many  an  ill  tongue  to  cast  dirt  at  me,  forby  lying  tales 
that  ye  found  things  of  value  missing. " 

"I  never  suspected  that  would  happen,"  said  Lilian, 
a  little  uneasily. 

"How  should  ye?"  continued  the  seamstress.  "But 
ye  could  not  blame  the  slanderers,  being  quick  yourself 
to  think  evil.  May  be  ye  did  not  know,  either,  that  my 
good  name  means  work  and  bread  to  more  than  me? 
So,  if  there  was  no  other  person  interested,  I  would  ask 
— how  dare  ye,  thinking  what  ye  think,  come  here  and 
ask  me  that  question?" 

Lilian  was  contrite,  realizing  the  harm  she  had  un- 
wittingly done,  and  recognizing  the  genuine  ring  of 
injured  innocence  in  the  speaker's  voice.  She  was  also 
slightly  angry,  as  well  as  astonished,  but  she  was  suffi- 
ciently just  to  see  that  it  would  not  become  her  to 
manifest  displeasure. 

"I  did  wrong,  but  how  do  you  know  what  I  thought, 
or  if  I  thought  anything  at  all  ?  "  she  asked.  "You  have 
also  avoided  the  question  instead  of  answering  me. " 

"What  did  I  tell  ye  at  the  beginning?"  said  the  sick 
girl  with  a  curious  smile.  "Being  poor,  am  I  less  a 
woman?  Well,  and  not  for  your  sake  only,  ye  shall 
have  the  answer  that  should  pleasure  ye.  That  night 
at  Hallows  Brig  was  the  one  time  only  Mr.  Dane  had 
word  with  me.  Are  ye  believing  me?" 

Lilian  failed  to  understand  why  she  should  feel  so 
relieved  by  the  information,  but  she  certainly  did.  She 


204  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

also  felt  humbled;  and  as  it  was  not  her  way  to  do  any- 
thing by  half,  she  made  reparation  with  a  queenly  sim- 
plicity. Stooping  over  the  sick  girl,  she  kissed  her  on 
the  cheek. 

"After  that  you  cannot  refuse  to  forgive  me,  and  must 
come  back  and  help  me  as  soon  as  you  are  fit, "  she  said. 
"  But  I  do  not  understand  yet  what  you  meant  when  you 
said  it  was  not  for  my  sake  only." 

The  sick  girl  at  first  only  regarded  her  with  a  smile, 
but  it  sufficed  to  show  Lilian  that  peace  was  made. 

"If  ye  cannot  guess,  I  fear  I  cannot  tell  ye,"  she  said. 
"I  have  eyes  and  the  sense  to  see,  but  it  would  be  pre- 
sumption for  me  to  tell  ye  all  they  showed  me.  Still, 
ye  and  Mr.  Maxwell  were  not  the  only  persons  I  saw 
that  night  at  the  Hallows  Brig." 

Lilian  asked  no  further  questions,  but  when  she  left 
there  was  a  brightness  in  her  eyes  which  had  not  been 
there  before. 

"Mary  Johnstone  has  clearly  bewitched  you,"  the 
clergyman  remarked.  "Your  very  step  is  lighter  than 
it  was  an  hour  ago,  and  you  are  looking  better  than  you 
have  done  all  winter.  Would  it  be  indiscreet  to  ask 
what  spell  she  cast  upon  you?" 

"I  am  afraid  it  would,"  Lilian  answered,  while  a 
softness  crept  into  her  face.  She  laughed,  and  hence- 
forward chatted  so  brightly  that  when  she  left  him  her 
companion  looked  after  her  longingly,  and  then  sighed 
as  he  turned  back  to  his  bachelor  quarters.  They 
struck  him  as  very  cheerless  and  lonely. 

A  week  had  passed  when  Miss  Chatterton,  sitting 
alone,  listlessly  took  up  a  newspaper  a  maid  brought  in. 
The  listlessness  vanished,  however,  when  a  heading, 
"Further  Fighting  in  the  Dark  Continent,"  caught  her 


ILLUMINATION  205 

eye,  and  she  eagerly  hurried  through  an  account  of  the 
reverses  suffered  by  a  British  punitive  expedition  in 
West  Africa.  Then,  while  her  heart  beat  fast,  she  sat 
very  still,  staring  at  the  concluding  paragraph: 

A  French  trader  brought  news  to  the  coast  of  another  un- 
fortunate affair  in  the  hinterland.  It  appears  that  two  English- 
men, Dane  and  Maxwell,  who  left  the  coast  months  earlier,  on 
a  prospecting  expedition,  lost  their  carriers  by  sickness,  and 
have  since  been  hemmed  in  by  hostile  natives  in  a  perilous 
position.  Our  correspondent  states  that  the  French  authori- 
ties, who  warned  them  against  the  expedition,  consider  their 
extrication  impossible,  and  believe  they  must  have  perished 
already. 

Lilian  let  the  paper  fall  from  her  nerveless  hands,  and 
lay  motionless,  shivering  in  her  chair.  The  shock  of  a 
supposed  discovery,  and  a  jealousy  she  would  not  own, 
had  played  their  part  in  forcing  on  her  attention  a 
question  she  had  resolutely  striven  to  ignore,  while  now, 
when  it  was  perhaps  too  late  forever,  the  answer  was  clear. 
She  could  deceive  herself  no  longer;  and  she  guessed 
why  the  man  had  risked  his  life  to  win  a  little  gold  in 
Africa.  Risked  it — at  the  thought  her  eyes  grew  hazy. 
It  might  well  be  that  he  had  flung  his  life  away!  Yet, 
even  then,  it  was  with  a  passing  thrill  of  pride  that  she 
remembered  the  stubbornness  beneath  his  patience,  and 
knew  that  it  would  go  very  hard  with  his  enemies  before 
he  went  down. 

Hilton  Dane  had  changed  swiftly  in  her  estimation 
from  a  man  with  a  weakness  to  a  hero,  generous,  loyal, 
swift  to  do  her  pleasure,  and  yet  fitted  to  command. 
It  seemed  to  her  overstrained  fancy  that  she  could 
almost  hear  his  voice  ringing  through  the  blast  of  the 


206    THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

rifles  in  the  last  struggle;  and  that  it  would  be  a  very 
grim  and  terrible  struggle  she  knew.  Then  she  shud- 
dered once  more,  recollecting  what  she  had  read  of  the 
scenes  within  an  African  stockade  when  the  rifles  lay 
cold  in  the  undergrowth,  and  the  smoke  of  the  flintlocks 
had  melted  away. 

The  sense  of  constraint  inside  grew  unbearable,  and 
the  girl  went  forth  into  the  night,  and  stood  bareheaded, 
staring  into  the  darkness,  hoping,  though  almost  afraid 
to  hope,  that  the  man  she  had  sent  away  had  not  passed 
forever  beyond  her  power  to  recall  him. 

Chatterton  and  his  wife,  returning  presently,  found 
her  waiting  in  the  hall;  and  the  iron-master's  action  was 
characteristic  when  he  had  glanced  at  the  paper  she 
handed  him.  Wrenching  out  his  notebook  he  wrote  on 
the  first  blank  leaf  the  address  of  a  firm  dealing  in  palm 
oil  inXiverpool,  and  then  a  message  beneath  it: 

"See  newspaper  report  of  disaster  to  West  Coast  ex- 
plorers, Dane  and  Maxwell.  Wire  your  agents  to  find 
out  how  much  is  true,  and  all  possible  details.  Spare  no 
expense  whatever. " 

He  flung  the  paper  to  the  groom  outside. 

"Get  that  telegram  sent  off  before  the  post-office 
closes,  if  you  kill  the  horse!"  he  said. 

There  was  a  rattle  of  wheels,  and  Chatterton  laughed 
a  grim  laugh  as  he  turned  toward  the  women. 

"No  great  cause  for  anxiety  as  yet.  I  know  Hilton 
Dane  better  than  either  of  you,  and  I  think  I  know 
Maxwell  too.  It  would  take  several  legions  of  niggers 
to  hem  them  in — and  I  should  be  sorry  for  many  of  the 
black  men. " 

A  few  days  later,  Thomas  Chatterton  sat  beside  his 
hearth  one  evening  in  an  unpleasnt  frame  of  mind. 


ILLUMINATION  207 

The  weather  might  have  caused  a  more  even  tempered 
person  some  discontent,  because  the  windows  rattled 
under  the  impact  of  the  sleet-laden  blast,  and  the  snug- 
gly  curtained  room  was  swept  by  chilling  draughts. 
But  Chatterton  was  not  considering  the  weather;  he 
glanced  at  the  clock  before  he  turned  toward  the  owner 
of  Culmeny. 

"That  lazy  rascal  is  stopping  somewhere  to  gossip  on 
the  way, "  he  said. 

"The  telegraph  office  is  closed  now,  and  he  must  be 
here  shortly,"  replied  Maxwell.  "I  was  sorry  to  hear 
that  Miss  Chatterton  was  no  better.  Have  you  any 
more  favorable  news  to  give  me?" 

"No.  She  is  rather  worse  than  better,  and  we  are 
distinctly  uneasy  about  her  to-night,"  he  said.  "Dr. 
Gilmour  was  here  an  hour  ago,  looking  rather  more  owl- 
like  than  usual,  but  I  could  get  no  opinion  out  of  him. 
In  fact,  the  man  puzzled  me.  He  appeared  dazed,  and 
either  would  not  listen  to  my  questions  or  was  incapable 
of  understanding  plain  English. " 

"Dazed?  You  do  not  as  a  rule  speak  ambiguously. 
If  Miss  Chatterton  is  seriously  ill  I  think  it  is  my  duty 
to  tell  you  what  you  evidently  do  not  know,  though  it 
is  no  secret.  Gilmour  is  not  free  from  a  weakness  for 
alcohol." 

Chatterton  was  a  man  of  action;  making  no  comment, 
he  wrenched  upon  the  rope  of  the  bell  before  he  pulled 
out  his  watch. 

"Send  Robertson  here  at  once!"  he  ordered;  and 
when  his  groom  appeared,  he  asked: 

"Is  it  possible  to  ride  a  horse  to  Swiftsbridge  across 
the  Langside  moss  and  through  the  ford  in  time  to 
bring  out  the  doctor  by  the  last  train?" 


208  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

"No,  sir,"  was  the  answer.  "The  moor  track's 
under  water,  the  ford  just  roaring  full,  and  I'm  thinking 
that  to  swim  the  Swift  to-night  is  impossible. " 

"I  think  he  is  right,"  Maxwell  said;  "though  I  fancy 
I  could  have  done  it  twenty  years  ago. " 

"Then  you  can  drive!"  Chatterton  said  harshly  to 
the  groom.  "It's  a  little  over  forty  miles  there  and 
back  by  road.  Get  a  fresh  horse  at  the  bridge;  but  if 
you  value  your  place  don't  come  back  without  the 
doctor!" 

Chatterton  walked  to  the  window  and  flung  the  cur- 
tains behind  him;  then  he  returned  with  brows  con- 
tracted farther. 

"The  moor  is  white  all  over,  and  the  air  thick  with 
sleet,"  he  said.  "It  will  take  that  fellow  all  his  time  to 
bring  the  doctor  here  by  to-morrow. " 

A  maid,  appearing,  laid  a  telegraphic  envelope  on  the 
table,  and  Chatterton  tore  it  open. 

"At  last!  I  always  thought  the  man  was  incapable. 
Listen  to  this! 

"Difficult  to  communicate  by  ocean  cable  except  at  heavy 
cost,  but  surmise  from  message  received  that  our  coast  agent 
credits  published  account.  His  cable  just  received  reads,  as 
deciphered  by  our  code:  Yes.  Consider  prospects  discour- 
aging. Do  not  look  for  improvement.  Think  we  could 
confirm. " 

Chatterton  whipped  out  a  pencil  and,  scribbling 
across  the  foot  of  the  message,  handed  it  to  Maxwell. 

"Can  you  send  somebody  down  to  the  office  with 
that?"  he  said.  "It  can't  go  until  to-morrow.  I  want 
to  keep  my  other  man  ready. " 

"Yes,"  agreed  Maxwell.  "There  are  regulations, 
Chatterton,  which  will  bar  out  your  opening  sentence, 


ILLUMINATION  209 

Damn  your  private  code.  The  rest  is,  I  think,  plain 
enough.  Get  news  whatever  it  costs.  Wire  your  agent 
in  English  if  he  has  sense  enough  to  understand  it.  Be- 
lieve I  am  quite  able  to  meet  the  bill. " 

"That  man,"  explained  Chatterton,  "is,  I  blush  to 
say,  a  relative  of  my  own,  and  given  to  complaining 
that  times  are  bad.  It  surprises  me  that  he  does  not 
find  them  ruinous,  if  this  is  a  sample  of  his  enterprise. 
I'm  almost  as  much  cut  up  as  you  are  about  this  affair; 
and  I'm  sorry  for  you,  Maxwell." 

"Thanks,"  returned  the  master  of  Culmeny,  quietly. 
"  He  was  the  only  son  left  me,  and  I  have  a  presentiment 
of  what  the  end  will  be.  It  is,  however,  in  the  hands  of 
the  Almighty;  but,  if  the  worst  comes,  I  know  that 
neither  of  them  will  forget  what  is  due  to  the  land  that 
bred  him." 

Chatterton  coughed  huskily. 

"You  are  morbid,  Culmeny.  If  they  can  only  steer 
clear  of  treachery,  by  the  Lord,  those  two  lads  will  cut 
their  way  out  in  spite  of  all  the  savages  in  Africa.  I 
know  the  one  whose  father  was  my  partner,  and  I  know 
your  son.  If  my  own  brother  told  me  he  had  seen  them 
beaten,  I  would  not  believe  him. " 

Maxwell  left,  and  in  a  few  minutes  Mrs.  Chatterton 
came  in  to  say  that  Lilian  was  growing  delirious.  As 
they  spoke  together  the  iron-master  heard  a  voice  in  the 
hall. 

"It  is  that  confounded  Rae,"  he  observed.  "It  was 
he  who  encouraged  Lily  to  go  poking  into  the  houses  of 
poor  folks  who  didn't  want  her,  all  winter.  I  consider 
him  responsible  for  her  illness,  and  feel  quite  capable  of 
telling  him  so. " 

The  clergyman  was  ushered  in,  and  he  had  barely 


210  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

stated  the  purport  of  his  visit  when  the  elder  man  cut 
him  short. 

"No.  Miss  Chatterton  will  neither  sing  at  your 
concert,  nor  distribute  any  more  coal  tickets  to  en- 
courage professional  loafers!"  he  said.  "In  fact 
she  is  seriously  ill.  If  you  had  not  been  enjoying 
yourself  in  Edinburgh  you  would  have  known  it.  You 
are  sorry!  Well,  I  really  cannot  help  saying  that  I 
think  you  ought  to  be.  Miss  Chatterton  has  not 
been  strong  all  winter,  and  was  warned  against  damp 
and  exposure;  but  you  managed  to  convince  her  it 
was  her  duty  to  wander  up  and  down  the  village, 
pestering  the  sick  folk,  in  spite  of  the  rain  and  snow. 
Women  have  not  the  sense  to  discriminate  between 
what  is  necessary  and  sentimental  foolishness,  you 
know." 

Rae,  who  was  not  readily  browbeaten,  interrupted 
the  speaker,  and  though  he  expressed  no  contrition, 
he  showed  such  genuine  anxiety  concerning  Miss 
Chatterton's  health  that  her  uncle  was  surprised, 
as  well  as  mollified.  It  is  possible  that  the  clergyman 
showed  his  fears  too  plainly. 

"Perhaps  you  could  not  help  it,  being  possibly 
afflicted  with  the  crazy  notion  that  to  destroy  one's  bod- 
ily health  is  good  for  the  soul,"  he  said.  "It  is  one  of 
the  few  things  which  always  excites  my  indignation." 

Rae,  who  knew  that  the  things  which  roused  the 
speaker's  ire  were  numerous,  smiled  a  little.  "I 
certainly  have  never  preached  that  doctrine." 

"You  must  forgive  me  if  I  appear  abrupt,"  Chatter- 
ton  apologized.  "  The  fact  is  that  when  I'm  anxious  my 
temper  is  not  so  good  as  it  generally  is,  and  I  am  very 
anxious  about  my  niece  to-night.  When  Gilmour 


ILLUMINATION 

came  round,  the  infernal — yes,  that's  the  adjective  I 
meant — old  scoundrel  wasn't  even  sober.  And  you 
remember  Dane?  Well,  he  is  hemmed  in  by  hostile 
savages  somewhere  in  Africa,  and  we  can  learn  no  news 
of  him.  My  niece  and  he  were  very  good  friends,  and 
when  she  grows  light-headed  she  begs  us  to  tell  her  what 
has  happened  to  him.  It  is  distressing  because,  of 
course,  we  cannot  do  so." 

Rae  winced  visibly  at  the  last  few  sentences,  and 
found  a  corroboration  of  them  in  the  recollection  of  the 
change  in  Miss  Chatterton  after  hearing  Johnstone's 
story.  Still,  he  pulled  out  his  watch. 

"There  is  a  clever  doctor  at  Swiftsbridge." 

"I  believe  so,"  said  Chatterton,  impatiently.  "There 
are  also  a  number  in  London  and  a  few  in  New  York,  I've 
heard.  I  sent  over  for  the  Swiftsbridge  man  some  time 
ago;  but  considering  the  snow  and  bad  roads,  I  don't 
expect  him  before  to-morrow — and  to-morrow  may  be 
too  late." 

"It  is  scarcely  twelve  miles  across  the  moor  and 
moss,"  said  Rae.  "There's  a  train  this  way  in  two 
hours'  time.  If  you  could  lend  me  a  horse " 

"My  man,  who  ought  to  know,  declares  that  nobody 
could  get  through  the  ford  to-night.  I'm  obliged  to 
you,  Rae,  but  what  you  suggest  is  out  of  the  question. 
The  one  horse  now  in  my  stable  has  the  fiend's  own  tem- 
per, and  I  cannot  allow  you,  who  cannot  have  had  much 
experience  in  the  saddle,  to  run  risks  that  were  too  heavy 
for  a  very  capable  horseman." 

"I  used  to  ride  a  little,  and  haven't  quite  forgotten. 
If,  as  you  suggest,  I  am  responsible  for  Miss  Chatter- 
ton's  illness,  I  must  make  the  only  reparation  possible. 
In  fact,  I  intend  to  do  so;  and  unless  you  will  mount  me 


THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

I  will  borrow  a  horse  at  Culmeny.  I  will  not,  however 
promise  to  spare  the  beast." 

"You  can  drown  him  if  you  bring  the  doctor  through 
by  the  last  train!"  said  Chatterton,  ringing  the  bell. 
"The  horse  will  be  ready  inside  ten  minutes;  and  I'm 
greatly  obliged  to  you." 

The  time  had  not  elapsed  when  Rae  walked  quietly 
toward  the  mettlesome  beast,  which,  resenting  the 
change  from  its  warm  stable  into  the  stinging  sleet,  laid 
its  ears  back,  and  when  Chatterton  approached  it 
bared  its  teeth. 

"Stand  clear  of  his  head!"  cautioned  Rae,  swinging 
himself  to  the  saddle;  and  the  horse,  rearing  half 
upright,  sent  the  gravel  flying.  "No.  Leave  the  gate 
shut!  I'm  going  the  nearest  way." 

"I  shall  not  forget  this  kindness,"  called  Chatterton. 
"Feel  I  ought  to  stop  you,  but  dare  not  do  it.  Take 
care  of  yourself — and  God  bless  you!" 

"I  hope  He  will  prosper  my  journey,"  the  younger 
man  answered  gravely. 

There  was  a  further  scattering  of  gravel,  a  pounding 
of  hoofs  across  a  strip  of  lawn,  and  a  crash  of  brittle 
branches  as  horse  and  rider  smashed  through  a  tall 
hedge  into  the  sleet  which  whirled  across  the  meadow 
beyond  it. 

Chatterton,  shaking  the  white  flakes  from  him,  re- 
turned to  his  wife. 

"I  suppose  you  saw  what  has  happened,"  he  said. 
"There's  another  of  them  in  the  running  now,  and  this 
one  has  mettle  in  him  if  he  is  a  clergyman.  He's  going 
through  Langside  moss  to-night,  though  I  gave  him  the 
plainest  hint  I  could  that  in  respect  to  Lilian  his  chance 
is  of  the  smallest.  Maxwell,  it  seems,  took  his  dismissal 


ILLUMINATION 

gracefully;  but  what  Rae  has  done  to-night  will  count 
heavily  on  his  side.  Why  must  that  idiot  Hilton  go  out 
and  get  himself  cut  off  by  niggers  in  Africa?" 

Thanks  to  Rae's  daring  ride,  a  skilful  doctor  arrived 
at  the  junction  by  the  last  train,  and  remained  at  The 
Larches  all  the  next  day.  He  also  made  a  number  of 
other  visits  before  he  stated  that  his  patient  was 
making  rapid  progress  on  the  way  to  recovery. 

"You  had,  however,  better  take  her  south,  say 
Egypt  or  the  Canaries,  to  escape  our  genial  spring," 
he  said.  "Not  necessary,  but  distinctly  advisable. 
Miss  Chatter  ton  might  sail  almost  at  any  time." 

"We  will  choose  Teneriffe,  and  start  at  once," 
Chatterton  informed  his  wife.  "It  is  well  on  the  mail 
route  to  West  Africa,  and  I'm  growing  anxious  about 
Hilton." 


CHAPTER  XVII 

IN  NEED  OF  HELP 

MRS .  CHATTERTON  had  no  objections  to  Teneriffe, 
and  so  it  came  about  that  one  evening  she  and  her 
niece,  who  had  almost  recovered  her  usual  health,  sat 
upon  a  hotel  balcony  in  Santa  Cruz,  looking  down  upon 
the  quaint  Spanish  city.  It  had  lain  basking  under 
fierce  sunlight  all  day,  but  now  the  cool  shadow  of  the 
giant  Canadas  rested  upon  it,  and  its  olive-faced  inhab- 
itants came  forth  to  breathe  the  freshness  from  the 
Atlantic.  Garrison  officers  and  somberly  clad  mer- 
chants with  their  wives  and  daughters,  strolled  up  and 
down  the  plaza  beneath  the  balcony,  while  laughter 
and  merry  voices  throbbed  through  the  strains  of  an 
artillery  band.  Near  by,  the  Atlantic  swell  pulsed 
whitely  on  the  lava  reefs,  and  high  above  the  great  black 
cordillera  heaved  aloft  its  jagged  pinnacles  against  the 
sunset  fires. 

Lilian  Chatterton,  however,  saw  little  of  all  this. 
She  was  looking  out  across  the  shimmering  Atlantic 
toward  the  blue  peaks  of  Grand  Canary,  beyond  which 
stretched  the  coast  of  Africa.  A  little  black-funneled 
steamer  was  creeping  across  the  sea-plain  between. 

"That  must  be  the  African  boat.  The  flag  is  going 
up  above  the  agent's  offices,"  she  said.  "  She  may  bring 
us  news.  It  is  a  pity  that  my  uncle  is  away.  He  seems 
distressed  about  the  uncertainty  concerning  Hilton." 

Perhaps  Lilian's  tone  was  less  indifferent  than  she 

214 


IN  NEED  OF  HELP  215 

wished,  for  Mrs.  Chatterton  watched  her  keenly  before 
she  answered. 

"It  is  hardly  surprising.  Your  uncle  is  a  just  man, 
and  never  forgets  a  benefit.  As  you  must  have  heard,  it 
was  an  invention  of  Hilton's  father  which  first  started 
them,  when  both  were  struggling  men,  on  the  way  to 
success;  bat  Dane  died,  and  the  widow,  who  was  never 
cordial  toward  my  husband,  drew  her  share  out  of  the 
business  against  his  advice.  She  died  comparatively 
poor  when  Hilton  was  young,  while  your  uncle,  who  still 
considers  he  owes  his  dead  partner  a  moral  debt,  tried 
several  means  of  discharging  it  by  benefiting  his  son. 
Hilton,  of  whom  I  am  very  fond,  is  not,  however,  a  per- 
son one  can  readily  confer  favors  upon." 

"No,"  said  Lilian,  with  a  trace  of  coldness  in  her  tone. 
"You  never  told  me  quite  so  much  before.  My  uncle 
is  not  always  quite  judicious  in  the  way  he  sets  about 
accomplishing  his  benevolent  intentions.  But  the  boat 
will  soon  be  in." 

Mrs.  Chatterton  smiled  a  little. 

"He  will  certainly  blame  us  if  we  allow  any  oppor- 
tunity for  obtaining  news  to  escape,  and  I  must  find 
somebody  to  take  a  note  of!  to  the  purser.  You  are 
tired,  Lily,  and  had  better  remain  here  while  I  go 
across  to  the  agent's  offices." 

Lilian  sat  leaning  back  in  a  basket  chair,  shrouded 
from  observation  by  two  tall  aloe  plants,  with  her  face 
still  turned  toward  the  cost  of  Africa.  The  silver  shim- 
mer faded  from  off  the  sea,  the  fires  of  sunset  died  out 
behind  the  Cordillera,  but  Mrs.  Chatterton  did  not 
return,  and  her  niece  waited  with  hands  crossed  idly  in 
her  lap.  It  was  now  some  time  since  the  steamer's 
anchor  had  rattled  down.  Presently,  because  the  long 


216  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

windows  behind  her  were  open,  she  started  at  a  voice 
in  the  adjoining  room.  It  seemed  the  voice  of  one  risen 
from  the  dead. 

"It  is  impossible!"  she  thought. 

"I  have  no  baggage,"  the  voice  rose  again.  "  Going 
on  with  the  Southampton  boat,  due  to-morrow.  Send 
across  to  the  offices  and  book  a  berth  for  me." 

Lilian,  rising,  stood  in  the  open  window,  and  the 
speaker  stared  at  her  in  astonishment. 

"I  could  hardly  believe  my  eyes,  Mr.  Maxwell,"  she 
exclaimed. 

Maxwell  strode  out  into  the  balcony,  but  his  surprise, 
which  vanished  quickly,  was  surpassed  by  the  girl's. 
His  face  was  worn  and  hollow,  and  in  the  failing  light 
he  looked  strangely  frail.  A  great  sense  of  pity  came 
upon  her. 

"You  are  ill,  and  I  must  not  keep  you  standing! 
Please  sit  down,  because  there  is  so  much  I — we  all — 
wish  to  know,"  she  said,  striving  to  suppress  her 
eagerness. 

"I  have  been  in  the  African  forest,"  Maxwell  replied 
simply,  as  though  that  were  sufficient  explanation. 
"Thank  you,  but  I  would  rather  lean  against  the  railing 
here." 

As  he  spoke,  he  drew  out  the  basket  chair,  and  bent 
his  head  with  a  gesture  of  invitation,  while  the  girl, 
noticing  the  languidness  of  his  movements,  showed  her 
compassion  in  her  eyes.  Maxwell  saw  the  pity,  and 
smiled  wistfully;  then  as  Lilian's  gaze  met  his  own,  she 
glanced  aside  a  moment  with  a  sudden  trace  of  color. 
She  remembered  their  last  meeting,  and  there  was  an 
awkward  silence  which  Maxwell  broke. 

"We  can  at  least  return  to  our  former  status  as  good 


IN  NEED  OF  HELP  217 

friends,  can  we  not?  "  he  said.  "I  see  you  are  anxious 
for  my  news,  and  it  may  be  a  painful  story;  but  first 
I  must  ask  you  a  question.  What  fortunate  accident 
brought  you  here?  " 

"I  was  unwell  and  ordered  south  to  escape  the 
spring."  Seeing  the  anxiety  in  the  man's  face,  Lilian 
added  quickly,  "I  have  recovered  now.  My  aunt  will 
be  here  in  a  few  minutes,  but  Mr.  Chatterton  has  gone 
across  the  island.  An  Englishman  he  met  invested 
some  money  in  a  sugar-mill  the  Spaniards  are  recon- 
structing, and  he  could  not  resist  the  temptation  of 
joining  him.  My  uncle  has  a  weakness  for  showing 
other  people  how  to  manage  machinery.  It  is  your 
turn  now,  but  first,  where  is  your  partner?" 

In  spite  of  Lilian's  intention  the  last  question  was  put 
with  a  sharpness  which  suprised  the  listener. 

"He  is  alive  and  well,  I  hope,"  he  answered  gravely. 
"My  story  will  be  longer,  but  I  will  try  to  tell  it  to  you 
clearly." 

The  waltz  the  band  played  in  the  plaza  below 
formed  a  curious  accompaniment  to  such  a  tale.  After 
the  first  few  sentences  neither  of  them,  however,  heard 
the  music,  and  Lilian  leaned  forward  with  the  color 
changing  in  her  intent  face  as  she  listened.  Maxwell 
suppressed  the  most  gruesome  details,  but  the  narra- 
tive would  have  been  startling  to  any  one  of  the  girPs 
upbringing.  The  thunder  of  the  sunset  gun  brought  it 
to  an  abrupt  conclusion,  and  as  the  long  reverbera- 
tions rolled  among  the  hills,  Lilian  rose  suddenly  and 
turned  upon  the  speaker.  There  was  scorn,  as  well  as 
horror,  in  her  eyes. 

"And  you  left  him  in  that  pestilence-stricken  camp 
to  be  murdered  by  the  tribesmen — you  coward!" 


218  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

They  were  equally  off  their  guard,  and,  for  there  are 
occasions  when  human  nature  mocks  at  all  conven- 
tional restraint,  both  had  dropped  the  mask.  When 
once  before  they  spoke  openly  it  was  Maxwell  who  had 
laid  bare  his  heart,  and  now,  though  he  made  a  valiant 
effort,  he  could  not  conceal  his  astonishment. 

"And  I  never  guessed,"  he  said  under  his  breath. 

So  for  a  few  seconds  they  stood,  with  inmost  thoughts 
laid  open,  face  to  face.  Maxwell,  having  revealed 
the  less,  first  recovered  himself. 

"I  am  afraid  I  have  told  my  story  badly,  Miss  Chat- 
terton,"  he  said.  "You  see  there  was  gold  enough 
to  excite  most  men's  cupidity  lying  within  our  sight, 
and  that  was  why  we  drew  lots  to  determine  which 
should  go  out  and  seek  help  to  secure  it.  Dane  was, 
for  a  reason  he  did  not  mention,  not  only  willing,  but 
anxious,  to  stake  his  life  on  the  chance  of  turning  that 
gold  into  currency,  and  the  lot  fell  to  me.  Being  unable 
to  raise  the  necessary  funds  by  cable,  I  am  now  on  my 
way  to  England,  to  sell  my  last  possessions  and  pledge 
whatever  in  the  future  may  be  mine.  Then,  if  I  have 
to  go  alone,  I  am  going  back  into  the  Leopards'  country 
to  bring  my  comrade  help." 

It  is  possible  that  few  men  under  the  circumstances 
would  have  framed  their  answer  as  Maxwell  did;  but 
he  was  in  all  things  loyal,  as  his  listener  recognized. 
She  was  once  more  mistress  of  herself,  but  she  did  not 
look  at  the  man  as  she  answered  him. 

"You  must  forgive  me.  What  you  had  to  tell  must 
have  dissipated  my  poor  senses.  It  is  even  more  start- 
ling than  anything  I  had  imagined,"  she  said. 

"I  can  hardly  forgive  myself  for  telling  it  so  badly," 
Maxwell  answered  gravely.  "You  had  already,  I 


IN  NEED  OF  HELP  219 

gather,  received  some  news  that  we  were  not  exactly 
prospering.  How  did  it  reach  you?" 

Lilian  mentioned  the  newspaper  paragraph,  and 
Maxwell's  face  grew  dark. 

"It  was  evidently  the  work  of  our  enemy,  and  done 
to  divert  suspicion  from  himself  in  case  the  tribesmen 
overwhelmed  us,  as  he  hoped.  It  is  another  reason 
for  haste,  and  if  you  will  excuse  me  I  will  go  on  to  the 
steamship  office  to  make  sure  of  my  berth." 

An  inspiration  dawned  upon  Lilian. 

"I  want  you  to  promise  that  you  will  not  sail  without 
seeing  me  again,"  she  said  quickly. 

"  It  is  a  conditional  promise.  While  I  would  do  any- 
thing to  please  you,  Miss  Chatterton,  so  much  depends 
on  my  speed  that  whatever  happens  I  must  catch  the 
steamer.  She  will  land  me  in  England  three  days 
before  the  West  Coast  boat,  and  is  expected  early  to- 


morrow." 


He  moved  away,  and  Lilian  was  left  alone,  plunged 
in  a  whirl  of  thoughts,  with  her  eyes  still  turned  toward 
Africa.  But  as  she  sat  there  one  purpose  grew  into 
definite  shape,  and  at  last  she  rose  sharply,  and  set  out 
in  search  of  Mrs.  Chatterton,  with  determination 
stamped  upon  her  face.  Lilian  was  shrewd;  she  saw 
that  Maxwell  might  well  arrive  too  late  unless  she  could 
hasten  the  starting  of  the  relief  expedition.  She  found 
Mrs.  Chatterton  presently  in  the  bustling  plaza,  and 
the  elder  lady  turned  aside  from  her  English  compan- 
ions after  a  glance  at  her  niece.  The  girl  came  straight 
toward  her  with  swift,  resolute  steps. 

"Mr.  Maxwell  was  on  board  the  steamer,"  she  said, 
with  a  calmness  that  puzzled  her  aunt.  "He  has  told 
me  all  about  the  expedition,  and  left  Hilton  in  deadly 


220  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

peril.  Money  is  needed  to  extricate  him,  and  Maxwell 
is  going  home  to-morrow  to  obtain  it;  but  I  think  my 
uncle  would  find  it  hard  to  forgive  us  if  we  did  not  let 
him  know  immediately.  No — we  have  no  time  to 
waste  with  these  people  now.  Turn  back  with  me." 

The  girl  passed  the  friends  who  advanced  to  greet 
her  as  though  she  did  not  see  them,  and  by  the  time 
they  reached  the  door  of  the  hotel  Mrs.  Chatter  ton 
realized  the  need  for  haste. 

"My  husband  must  certainly  know  at  once,  but  it 
is  twenty  odd  miles  to  Oratava  alone,  and  several 
more  from  there  to  the  sugar-mill,"  she  said.  "The 
telegraph  office  is  closed,  and  you  say  the  mailboat 
should  sail  early  to-morrow.  It  is  very  unfortunate, 
but  what  can  we  do?" 

"There  is  only  one  thing  possible,"  declared  Lilian. 
"No  one  could  trust  a  Canario  with  so  urgent  a  message. 
We  must  start  at  once  ourselves.  We  need  not  go  all 
the  way  round  by  Oratava.  There  is  a  bridle-path 
across  the  hills." 

"But  you  are  hardly  strong  enough  for  such  a 
journey,  and  we  might  not  get  a  carriage  to  take  us 
there  to-night." 

"The  carriage  is  entering  the  plaza  now,"  said 
Lilian.  "Can  you  not  see  that  if  Mr.  Maxwell  goes 
to  England  he  may  be  too  late." 

Mrs.  Chatterton  looked  hard  at  her  niece.  Lilian's 
face  was  very  resolute,  but  she  bore  the  scrutiny  calmly, 
and  the  elder  lady  was  not  wholly  astonished. 

"I  will  be  ready  in  five  minutes,"  she  said,  and 
Lilian,  moved  by  some  impulse,  kissed  her  swiftly. 

The  five  minutes  had  hardly  expired  when,  with 
the  Canario  driver  shouting  in  warning,  a  two-horse 


IN  NEED  OF  HELP 


carriage  rolled  out  of  the  plaza,  and  went  rattling  up 
the  narrow  street.  Accustomed  as  they  were  to  the 
eccentricities  of  British  visitors,  the  sleepy  citizens 
stared  at  its  occupants,  when,  with  unusual  agility, 
they  had  leaped  out  of  its  way,  for  the  driver  stood 
upright,  lashing  his  horses  until  they  broke  into  a  head- 
long gallop,  and  the  crazy  vehicle  lurched  and  bounced 
over  the  uneven  stones. 

Night  had  closed  in  now,  and  a  vault  of  velvety  indigo 
spangled  with  many  stars,  hung  over  the  long  rows  of 
sun-baked  walls,  which  rolled  away  behind.  A]  full 
moon  rose  slowly  over  the  Atlantic.  In  front  wastes 
of  scoriae,  maize  fields,  vineyards,  rolled  upward, 
ridge  beyond  ridge,  toward  the  Titanic  wall  of  lava, 
nine  thousand  feet  above;  but  the  climbing  road  was 
broad  and  good,  and,  if  the  string-patched  harness 
held,  they  might  bring  Thomas  Chatterton  news  in 
time. 

Lilian  retained  but  a  blurred  impression  of  that  part 
of  the  journey.  They  swept  past  climbing  mule  teams, 
and,  sometimes  on  two  wheels  only,  swung  round  many 
curves.  Blinding  clouds  of  dust  rolled  up,  and,  driven 
forward  by  the  breeze  from  the  Atlantic,  whirled  about 
them.  There  were  odd  gleams  of  light,  and  a  howling 
of  dogs,  as  white-walled  dwellings  swept  by,  then  only 
the  clang  of  iron  on  lava,  and  creaking  of  the  vehicle 
to  break  the  silence  of  the  desolate  hillside,  until  the 
driver  howled  again  as  they  clattered  into  old-world 
Laguna,  just  sinking  into  early  sleep.  The  carriage 
lurched  over  the  cobbles,  sparks  blazed  up,  white  walls 
and  glimmering  lattices  raced  by,  and  Lilian  glanced 
at  her  watch  as,  while  the  lathered  team  swung  into 
swifter  stride  upon  the  level,  Laguna  receded  into  the 


222     THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

night.  Branches  of  eucalyptus  met  above,  the  road 
was  checkered  with  shadow,  but  it  was  straight  and 
good,  and  the  driver  evidently  meant  to  win  the 
guerdon  promised  him. 

It  was  cool  on  the  higher  levels.  The  fresh  night 
wind  stirred  the  passengers'  blood,  and  while  the 
stinging  whip-cuts  roused  the  horses  to  further  effort, 
the  eucalyptus  gave  place  to  sugar-cane,  vineyards, 
cork-trees,  and,  looming  black  in  the  moonlight  on  the 
bare  hill  shoulders,  gnarled  pines. 

"We  have  lost  no  time  so  far,"  said  Lilian,  bending 
her  head  over  the  moonlit  dial  of  her  tiny  watch,  and 
almost  resenting  the  attention  when  her  aunt  drew  the 
wrappings  closer  about  her.  "Still,  it  is  passing  fast." 

The  driver  was  certainly  doing  his  utmost.  He 
stood  upright,  for  the  most  part,  shouting  as  he  lashed 
his  horses,  for  the  Castilian  is  not  as  a  rule  merciful 
to  his  beasts,  and  as  the  road  had  been  lately  mended 
in  places  with  broken  lava  the  carriage  jolted  painfully. 
Lilian,  making  no  comment,  only  held  fast  the  tighter, 
but  once  her  aunt  screamed,  and  it  was  fortunate  that, 
startled  by  her  cry,  the  man  checked  his  horses.  There 
was  a  steep  grade  before  them,  and  when  the  beasts 
broke  into  a  walk  he  stopped  them  altogether,  and 
leaped  down  from  his  perch.  He  glanced  at  one  of  the 
wheels,  then  cast  his  hat  into  the  road  and  kicked  it 
several  times,  shook  his  fist  at  the  surrounding  country, 
and  for  nearly  a  minute  poured  forth  a  torrent  of  sonor- 
ous Castilian.  It  was  well  that  neither  of  the  listeners 
wholly  understood  him. 

"What  is  the  matter,  and  what  can  he  be  saying?" 
asked  Mrs.  Chatterton,  almost  appalled  by  the  man's 
vehemence;  and  Lilian  answered  with  a  shudder. 


IN  NEED  OF  HELP  223 

"I  am  not  quite  certain,  but  I  fancy  that  a  wheel  is 
coming  off." 

"Lo  creo,"  interjected  the  Canario.  "M al  rayol 
I  spik  good  Ynglez.  This  jimcraky  wheel,  which  is 
made  of  a  lost  carpenter,  she  is  come  right  off." 

Putting  his  shoulder  against  the  vehicle  he  hurled 
the  wheel  down  crashing  upon  the  lava,  and  then  flung 
one  arm  aloft,  with  a  tragic  gesture. 

"Stop  him  at  once,  Lily!"  begged  Mrs.  Chatterton. 
"The  wretched  man  is  beginning  again,  and  his 
language  positively  frightens  me!" 

"You  mustn't!"  said  Lilian  severely,  as  the  Canario's 
tongue,  which  had  apparently  been  dipped  in  brimstone 
unloosed  itself  again.  "Stop  immediately!  Instead 
of  all  that  nonsense,  try  to  think  of  what  you  can  do!" 

"I  do  nothing.  No  man  do  nothing.  On  three 
wheel  this  coche  she  is  not  can  go."  The  driver's  ges- 
ture expressed  despair.  "We  stop  here  for  all  night, 
puede  ser  all  to-morrow.  We- stop  a  here  forever." 

"That  is  absurd,"  said  Lilian  sharply  "Is  there  no 
blacksmith  at  Laguna?  Blacksmith — hombre  de  hierro, 
entiende?  Take  one  of  those  horses  out  and  go  for  him 
immediately!" 

"No  possible,  senorita.  The  black-a-smeet  he  sleep 
at  night,"  explained  the  Canario,  hopelessly. 

Lilian  stamped  one  little  foot. 

"It  is  no  possible  to  waken  him?  Escucha  Yd,  and 
please  try  to  comprehend.  If  I  reach  the  sugar-mill 
too  late  you  will  be  paid  exactly  what  the  Alcalde  at 
Oratava  says  is  your  due.  If  I  get  there  in  time,  and 
not  otherwise,  you  will  receive  what  I  promised  you. 
Now  take  out  one  of  those  horses,  and  I  will  help  you." 

The  driver  rubbed  his  forehead,  and  kicked  his  hat 


THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

again.  Then  he  declaimed  a  little  further;  and  finally, 
while  Mrs.  Chatterton  protested  against  Lilian's  help- 
ing him,  he  proceeded  to  act  upon  her  suggestion.  The 
girl  struggled  with  rusty  buckle  and  raw-hide  patched 
with  string,  and  at  last  tethered  one  horse  to  a  branch, 
while  the  Canario  clattered  off  toward  Laguna  on  the 
other.  He  had  neither  saddle  nor  stirrups,  but  that  did 
not  matter  much  to  a  man  of  his  race. 

The  two  women  were  left  standing  in  the  middle  of 
the  lonely  road. 

"I  wish  we  had  never  come,"  wailed  Mrs.  Chatterton. 
"Mind  that  horse  does  not  bite  you,  Lily." 

"Poor  beast,"  said  the  girl,  stroking  the  creature's 
scraggy  neck.  "He  did  his  best,  and  a  great  deal  still 
depends  on  him.  If  that  wretched  man  does  not  return 
soon  the  waiting  will  drive  me  mad." 

Mrs.  Chatterton  found  a  seat  by  the  wayside.  Lilian 
paced  to  and  fro,  halting  only  to  listen  and  gaze  down  the 
long  dusty  road.  An  hour  passed  slowly.  Still  only  the 
rustle  of  the  sugar-cane  and  the  sighing  of  dark  branches 
broke  the  stillness.  There  was  no  light  visible;  and  save 
for  the  horse,  the  two  anxious  Englishwomen  seemed 
the  only  living  things  upon  the  mountain-side. 

"Can  you  hear  nothing,  auntie?"  the  girl  asked; 
but  the  elder  lady  heard  only  the  drowsy  gurgle  of  water 
in  a  distant  barranco,  and  the  moan  of  the  breeze. 

"No.  There  is  no  sign  of  any  one  coming  yet;  and 
I  am  afraid  we  should  be  almost  too  late  if  we  started 
now,"  she  said. 

Twice  again  the  girl  paced  up  and  down  in  a  fever  of 
impatience,  then  stood  rigidly  still,  leaning  forward  a 
little,  for  a  faint  thudding  sound  came  out  of  the  shadows. 

"He  is  coming  at  last!" 


IN  NEED  OF  HELP 

The  man  came  up  at  a  gallop,  with  a  hammer  and 
a  bag  of  tools,  and,  talking  volubly,  remounted  the  wheel. 
Then  he  lashed  his  horses  viciously,  and  they  were  off, 
pressing  on  at  a  gallop  almost  to  the  divide,  where,  partly 
bathed  in  silver  light  by  the  moon,  and  partly  wrapped  in 
black  shadow  by  the  mighty  peak,  the  great  horseshoe 
vale  of  Oratava  sloped  to  the  Atlantic.  Here  the  driver 
turned. 

"The  brake  of  this  coche  is  also  broke.  I  have  ten 
children,  senoras,  and  all  very  small,  and  if  we  must  go 
down  at  the  full  speed  it  will  be  one  more  ten  shillings 
for  the  risk." 

Mrs.  Chatterton,  glancing  down  toward  the  lights 
that  twinkled  apparently  vertically  beneath  her,  and  the 
glimmering  plain  of  the  Atlantic  very  far  below,  some- 
what naturally  hesitated,  and  was  about  to  speak,  when 
Lilian  thrust  a  gold  coin  into  the  man's  brown  palm. 

"You  shall  have  more  when  I  come  back  from  Tarn- 
pena.  Only  lose  no  time!"  she  urged. 

The  driver,  who  had  been  deluded  on  various  oc- 
casions by  British  emigrants  bound  for  the  Cape,  first 
prudently  bit  the  coin,  then  piously  crossed  himself, 
after  which  he  lashed  the  horses,  and  the  carriage  began 
the  long  descent  like  a  run-away  locomotive  or  a  thunder- 
bolt, as  Mrs.  Chatterton  afterward  said.  The  road  was 
good,  but  it  dipped  in  zig-zags  down  the  steep  hillside, 
and  they  went  round  the  bends  madly  with  two  wheels 
in  the  air;  while  twice  the  elder  lady  held  her  breath  as  a 
straggling  mule  team  rushed  past.  She  prayed  spas- 
modically that  the  ancient  harness  might  not  break. 

The  walnuts  gave  place  to  fig-trees,  the  figs  in  turn 
to  vines,  and  still  the  straining  gear  held  fast,  and  the 
bouncing  vehicle  hung  together  behind  the  lathered 


226  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

beasts.  Then  the  terraced  vines  were  replaced  by  maize, 
and  when  the  broad  leaves  of  bananas  raced  up,  as  it 
were,  to  meet  them  under  the  moon,  the  driver,  shout- 
ing his  loudest,  reined  his  team  in  outside  a  little  hill 
posada. 

" Horses  and  a  trusty  guide  for  the  sugar-mill!"  he 
roared,  beating  on  the  door.  "Here  are  two  mad  English 
sefioras  with  a  purse  of  gold!" 


CHAPTER  XVIH 

MAXWELL'S  CONFIDENCE 

THOUGH  the  English  are  not  greatly  loved  in  any 
possessions  of  Spain,  their  gold  has  the  power  of  rous- 
ing even  the  contemplative  Canario  out  of  his  usual  leth- 
argy, and  when  the  driver  shouted,  drowsy  men  hurried 
about  the  posada.  The  host  had  two  good  mules,  and 
a  vine-grower  would  be  glad  to  act  as  guide,  but  there 
was,  he  said,  a  difficulty.  He  had  only  one  saddle  fit 
for  a  lady  and  with  the  deepest  respect  for  the  senora, 
he  feared  she  was  too  old  to  venture  over  the  perilous 
bridle  paths  at  that  time  of  night;  with  which  opinion  Mrs. 
Chatterton  quite  concurred.  Lilian  glanced  at  her  aunt, 
and  then  toward  the  bare-legged  peasant,  who,  with  a 
great  blanket  rolled  about  his  shoulders,  stood,  hat  in 
hand,  before  her.  There  was  a  rude  dignity  about  this 
vine-dresser  which  pleased  her,  and  moving  forward  she 
kissed  her  aunt. 

"You  must  go  on  alone  to  the  hotel  at  Grata va," 
she  said. 

Mrs.  Chatterton  had  long  grown  accustomed  to  being 
ruled  by  her  niece,  and  though  she  protested,  she  did 
so  feebly.  Even  while  she  spoke  the  girl  put  her  foot  in 
the  hand  of  the  vine-dresser,  who  lifted  her  to  the 
saddle,  and  then  sprang  into  his  own.  He  swept  his 
battered  hat  to  his  knee  with  the  grace  of  a  courtier  as 
he  passed  Mrs.  Chatterton,  and  almost  before  the  elder 
lady  realized  what  had  happened,  the  two  mounted 

227 


228  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

figures  had  vanished  among  the  maize.  With  a  sigh 
and  an  inarticulate  prayer,  she  bade  the  driver  proceed 
to  Oratava,  as  slowly  as  he  liked. 

Lilian  never  counted  the  risks  she  ran  during  that 
ride.  The  two  strangely-assorted  companions  soon  left 
the  maize  behind  and  rode  over  broken  lava  and  scoriae ; 
dipped,  sliding  and  stumbling,  into  a  barranco  filled  with 
impenetrable  shadow,  out  of  which  the  guide  had  hard 
work  to  drag  the  horses  on  the  opposite  side;  and  then 
skirted  the  dizzy  brink  of  another  vast  volcanic  fissure 
in  the  black  hillside.  Lilian,  looking  down  into  the 
depths  that  yawned  beneath  her,  guessed  aright  that  a 
slip  would  mean  destruction,  while  for  once  her  heart 
failed  her  when  the  peasant  pulled  the  mules  up  where 
the  pathway  seemed  to  break  off  at  the  brink.  He 
pointed  toward  the  lights  far  down  in  the  hollow,  saying 
in  Castilian: 

"That  is  the  mill.  The  senorita  rides  well.  If  she 
will  let  the  mule  find  its  own  way  she  may,  with  the 
blessing  of  heaven,  come  down  safely." 

Lilian,  partly  comprehending,  shuddered  for  a  moment 
as  she  glanced  into  the  great  volcanic  pit,  then,  slacking 
the  bridle,  laid  one  hand  on  the  high  peak  of  the  saddle, 
as  with  the  cinders  rattling  away  beneath  them,  they 
commenced  the  descent.  No  beast  but  a  Canary  pack- 
mule  trained  to  carry  wine  kegs  over  the  wild  hill  trails 
could  have  come  down  alive,  and  it  seemed  to  be  sliding 
with  legs  braced  stiffly  most  of  the  time,  and  then  picking 
its  way  foot  by  foot  down  the  face  of  an  almost  precip- 
itous descent.  Fortunately  the  darkness  hid  the  worst 
terrors;  they  came  down  safely,  and  swept  through  tall 
cane  on  the  level  toward  a  group  of  dusky  buildings, 
which  grew  plainer  ahead. 


MAXWELL'S  CONFIDENCE 

Then  the  guide  shouted,  there  was  a  howling  of  dogs, 
and  Lilian,  dropping  stiffly  from  the  saddle,  walked  into 
the  presence  of  her  uncle  in  the  Spanish  sugar-grower's 
dwelling.  Chatterton,  who  had  been  poring  late  over 
some  machine  drawings,  rose  abruptly  at  the  sight  of 
her. 

"Good  heavens,  Lily!  Have  you  flown  here?"  he 
cried.  "What  has  happened  girl?  Is  your  aunt  ill?" 

"Don't  ask  questions!  Sit  still  a  minute,  and  listen! 
My  aunt  is  well  and  should  be  safe  in  Oratava  by  now. 
Mr.  Maxwell  is  in  Santa  Cruz,  and  brings  serious  news  of 
Hilton." 

Chatterton  stiffened  to  attention  as  he  listened. 
Then,  because  he  was  above  all  things  a  man  of  action 
and  could  let  side  issues  wait,  he  asked  no  questions 
but  patted  his  niece's  shoulder. 

"Well  done,  my  girl.  Well  done!"  he  said.  "God 
forbid  that  my  dead  partner's  son  should  perish  while 
I  have  the  power  to  help  him.  If  it's  money  Maxwell 
needs,  he  shall  have  it  if  there's  sufficient  in  the  Bank  of 
Spain.  It  is  lucky  I  opened  credit  to  show  these  blun- 
derers how  to  run  their  mill.  You  will  stay  here  with 
the  SefLora  Martin,  and  rejoin  your  aunt  to-morrow.  I 
shall  start,  but  not  by  your  road,  as  soon  as  these  loafers 
can  get  horses  ready." 

"I  am  going  with  you,"  Lilian  said,  quietly.  She  was 
very  tired;  but  with  Dane's  life  at  stake,  she  dare  not 
take  any  chances.  That  her  uncle  would  do  his  best  to 
reach  Maxwell  in  time,  she  knew;  and  yet,  if  something 
should  happen  on  the  way!  If  his  horse  should  slip  on 
those  treacherous  lava  trails ! 

Chatterton  saw  the  pale  lips  close  tightly  with  a 
determination  that  he  never  attempted  to  resist. 


230  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

"Very  well,  Lily,"  he  acquiesced;  "but  it  will  be  a 
hard  ride." 

In  an  incredibly  short  time  the  horses  were  ready,  and 
Chatterton  and  his  niece  followed  their  guide  throughout 
the  remaining  hours  of  the  long  night.  Few  words  were 
spoken  by  either  of  them  as  they  urged  their  horses  for- 
ward. At  dawn  they  were  still  riding,  Lilian  feverishly 
anxious,  Chatterton  grimly  determined. 

A  big  gray-painted  steamer  lay  rolling  in  the  harbor  of 
Santa  Cruz,  and  Maxwell  stood  on  the  hotel  steps  im- 
patiently glancing  at  his  watch.  He  had  given  Miss 
Chatterton  his  conditional  promise  that  he  would  await 
her  return,  but  he  dare  not  miss  the  steamer.  A  feathery 
column  of  vapor  roaring  aloft  from  her  steam-pipe 
indicated  that  all  was  ready.  He  had  less  than  ten 
minutes  to  spare,  and  there  was  still  no  sign  of  Miss 
Chatterton. 

"Five  more  minutes.    There's  the  first  bell  now!" 

Three  of  the  minutes  passed,  and  Maxwell  was  hurry- 
ing toward  the  boat,  when  somebody  shouted  his  name, 
and  turning,  he  saw  two  white-flecked  horses  race  into 
the  plaza.  One  kept  on  to  the  hotel;  almost  before  the 
other  stopped,  Thomas  Chatterton  leaped  to  the  ground. 

"You're  not  going  in  that  boat!"  he  gasped.  "Can't 
you  understand  me?  You  are  going  back  to  the  Coast 
instead!" 

"I'm  afraid  I  can't,  sir,"  Maxwell  replied  with  a 
puzzled  air.  "I  don't  want  to  be  uncivil,  but  I  dare  not 
waste  a  moment.  I  must  catch  the  steamer." 

"You  shan't!"  persisted  Chatterton,  his  red  face 
growing  purple  when  Maxwell  shook  his  hand  off  his  arm. 
"Confound  you!  Stop  and  listen!  I  owed  Hilton's 


MAXWELL'S  CONFIDENCE  231 

father  more  than  I  can  ever  repay  his  son,  and  Lilian  told 
me  what  has  befallen  him.  Well,  if  it's  money  you  are 
short  of,  I'm  not  a  poor  man,  and  you  can  have  as  much 
as  they  hold  in  the  bank  here  if  you  want  it  to  rescue  your 
partner.  Now,  don't  let  any  foolish  pride  lead  you  into 
manslaughter.  I'm  doing  you  no  favor,  but  making  a 
commercial  investment.  Call  me  sleeping  partner  or 
anything  you  like,  but  don't  throw  your  comrade's  life 
away." 

Maxwell  looked  his  relief. 

"  I  am  not  quite  a  fool,  sir,  and  dare  not  refuse.  It  only 
remains  for  me  to  express  my  gratitude." 

"Gratitude  be  consumed!"  said  C ha tterton,  cheerily. 
"Call  it  business.  Now  we'll  order  the  best  breakfast 
they  can  serve  us  in  this  place,  and  you  can  tell  me  the 
whole  thing  again." 

Two  days  later  when  Maxwell  boarded  a  steamer  bound 
for  the  West  Coast,  Chatterton  and  his  niece  went  on 
board  with  him.  Lilian  was  both  relieved  and  sorry 
when  the  iron-master  hurried  away  in  search  of  the 
purser  to  make  sure  that  several  bags  of  silver  currency 
were  put  in  safe  keeping.  She  had  something  to  say  to 
Maxwell,  but  the  task  was  difficult. 

"I  shall  always  take  shame  upon  myself  for  what  I 
said  on  the  balcony,"  she  began.  "You  are  a  very  loyal 
partner,  and  I  wish  you  Godspeed." 

The  words  were  simple,  but  because,  during  the  fate- 
ful moments  when  the  two  stood  on  the  balcony,  the 
veil  which  covered  their  inmost  thoughts  had  been 
drawn  aside,  they  cost  Lilian  an  effort,  and  meant  a 
good  deal.  They  sent  a  curious  thrill  to  the  heart  of 
Maxwell. 

"  I  meant  all  that  I  said  one  other  night,  and  I  am  ready 


232  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

to  prove  it,"  he  said.  "  Whether  I  shall  ever  return  or 
not,  I  say  it  solemnly,  only  Gods  knows;  but  if  I  live  to 
reach  our  camp,  I  think  Hilton  Dane  will." 

For  a  moment  Lilian's  eyes  grew  hazy,  and  she  looked 
away  from  him.  Then,  though  there  was  moisture  on  her 
lashes,  she  turned  fully  toward  her  companion,  holding 
out  her  hand. 

" Heaven  send  you  both  back  safe!  You  are  a  good 
man,  and  very  generous.  I  knew  it  the  evening  we  passed 
the  Hallows  Brig— but " 

"Destiny  arranges  these  things  for  us,"  Maxwell  inter- 
rupted quietly.  "I  am  glad  that  your  good  wishes 
follow  me  to  Africa." 

Thomas  Chatterton  came  up  panting  as  he  spoke,  the 
warning  of  the  last  bell  broke  through  the  rattle  of  the 
windlass,  and  Maxwell  bent  bareheaded  over  Lilian's 
hand.  Then  she  and  Chatterton  went  down  the  side 
together,  a  deep-toned  whistle  vibrated  above  the  waters 
as  the  steamer  slowly  forged  ahead,  and  Maxwell  saw  a 
white-gowned  figure  in  the  boat  beneath  her  side  turn 
with  a  farewell  smile  and  wave  a  hand  to  him.  Once 
more  he  raised  his  hat,  and  when  the  boat  slid  astern 
Lilian's  eyes  grew  hazy  as  she  gazed  after  the  departing 
vessel. 

"That  man  will  go  far,"  said  Chatterton.  "Once  he 
makes  up  his  mind  the  devil  himself  would  hardly  turn 
him.  He  is  one  of  the  steely,  quiet  kind  who  are  never 
more  in  earnest  than  when  they  are  silent,  but  I  am  anx- 
ious. He  is  bound  for  a  very  deadly  country." 

Cool  breezes  followed  the  steamer  to  the  African  coast, 
and  Maxwell  had  recovered  part  of  his  vigor  before  the 
first  palm-crowned  bluff  rose  out  of  the  sea.  He  had 
sufficient  funds  at  his  disposal,  but  arduous  work  to  do, 


MAXWELL'S  CONFIDENCE          233 

and  he  held  himself  apart  from  the  few  passengers,  think- 
ing earnestly.  Among  other  things  he  decided  to  fit  out 
the  relief  expedition  at  Redmond's  factory  at  Little 
Mahu,  because,  though  more  difficult,  the  road  from  there 
was  shorter  and  less  likely  to  be  watched;  and  he  surmised 
that  Rideau,  who  must  hear  of  his  presence  on  the  coast 
sooner  or  later,  would  expect  him  to  start  from  Castro 's 
factory.  Maxwell  knew  he  had  not  seen  the  last  of  their 
treacherous  partner. 

At  the  last  moment,  he  so  far  modified  his  plans  as  to 
call  upon  Dom  Pedro. 

It  was  a  fine  afternoon  when  the  cliff  with  the  tall 
palms  on  the  crest  of  it,  and  low  whitewashed  build- 
ings nestling  between  them  and  the  smoking  beach, 
rose  to  view,  and  the  purser,  strolling  past,  halted  near 
Maxwell. 

"We  have  several  boat-loads  of  cottons  for  this  place, 
and  as  the  surf  is  high  it  will  take  us  until  sunset  to  land 
them  safely,"  he  said.  "Then,  as  there  are  nasty  reefs  to 
thread  through,  the  skipper  will  probably  wait  for  moon- 
light before  he  heaves  the  anchor;  so  if  you  don't  mind  a 
spray  bath  you  might  have  a  few  hours  ashore." 

Maxwell,  knowing  that  he  would  see  quite  sufficient 
of  Africa  before  he  sailed  west  again,  felt  no  great  desire 
to  go  ashore;  but  as  he  gazed  at  the  dazzling  buildings 
through  his  glasses  a  figure  came  out  upon  the  veranda, 
and  an  unaccountable  impulse  urged  him  to  seek  speech 
with  Miss  Castro.  Why  he  should  do  so,  and  what  he 
should  say  to  her,  he  did  not  know,  but  he  remembered 
that  several  times  during  his  career  some  unconsidered 
action  made  on  the  spur  of  the  moment  proved  as  fruit- 
ful as  his  best  laid  plans.  So,  donning  the  mate's  oil- 
skins, he  dropped  into  a  surf-boat  and  was  whirled 


234  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

shoreward  on  a  big  breaker's  crest,  landing  without 
misadventure  amidst  a  cloud  of  spray. 

Dom  Pedro,  it  appeared,  was  absent,  but  his  daughter 
started  at  the  sight  of  the  stranger,  and  the  warm  olive 
coloring  of  her  face  was  suffused  with  a  deeper  tinge. 
She  was  herself  again  the  next  moment,  and  came  to 
meet  him  with  only  a  slightly  heightened  luster  in  her 
black  eyes;  but  for  a  man  Maxwell  was  observant,  and 
deduced  a  good  deal  from  what  he  had  seen.  Neverthe- 
less, he  was  mistaken  when  he  attributed  it  to  the  loss  of 
his  map. 

Miss  Castro  received  him  affably,  and  presented  him  to 
her  aunt,  who  combined  a  lethargic  disposition  with  the 
usual  portliness  of  an  Iberian  lady  who  has  exceeded  the 
age  of  forty,  and  after  a  few  drowsy  compliments  she 
betrayed  no  further  interest  in  the  visitor.  Nevertheless, 
the  sefiora  was  not  so  sleepy  as  she  appeared.  Maxwell 
seated  himself  beside  Bonita  near  the  opposite  end  of  the 
veranda,  and  was  not  wholly  sorry  he  had  come  ashore. 
The  girl  made  a  charming  picture  as  she  reclined  in  a 
deep  chair  near  at  hand,  smiling  at  him  with  a  trace  of 
shyness  that  was  not  assumed,  though  an  occasional 
nervous  movement  betokened  a  suppressed  eagerness. 
Maxwell  had  pledged  himself  soul  and  body  to  the  serv- 
ice of  another  woman  with  a  chivalrous  self-abnegation 
that  only  those  who  knew  him  well  would  have  suspected 
him  capable  of ;  but  he  possessed  artistic  perceptions,  and 
Bonita 's  dark  beauty  appealed  to  him. 

"You  have  very  much  to  tell  me.  How  is  it  you 
come  from  the  westward,  and  where  is  your  companero?" 
she  asked;  and  once  more  Maxwell  was  wholly  misled. 

He  noticed  the  swift  gleam  in  the  dark  eyes  that  fell 
beneath  his  own;  and,  knowing  what  he  knew,  he  was 


MAXWELL'S  CONFIDENCE  235 

troubled.  There  was  a  hidden  gentleness  under  the 
man 's  sardonic  exterior,  but  he  never  learned  how  blind 
he  had  been  that  afternoon. 

"My  comrade  was  well  when  I  left  him,"  he  said 
gravely;  and  Bonita,  flashing  a  swift  glance  at  him, 
evinced  less  satisfaction  than  he  had  expected. 

"We  were  the  good  friends,  senor.  You  will  tell  me 
why  you  leave  him  and  now  come  from  the  west.  Also 
if  you  met  Rideau,  and  what  you  did  with  him.  You 
are  a  strong  man,  senor,  but  it  may  be  a  woman  can 
help  you?" 

Maxwell  was  in  his  own  way  a  chivalrous  person,  but 
he  owed  a  duty  to  the  comrade  who  remained  in  the 
forest,  and  he  meant  to  discharge  it.  So  he  answered 
with  incisive  frankness. 

"  Can  you  not  see  why  it  might  be  better  for  both  of  us 
that  I  should  not  tell  you,  senorita?" 

The  girl  laughed  softly,  then  laid  a  little  hand  upon 
his  own.  It  felt  strangely  hot,  and  again  her  eyes  were 
luminous  in  a  manner  that  puzzled  him. 

"  It  is  the  map,  you  mean?  It  is  true  I  find  it  after  the 
Senor  Dane  leave,  and  I  sell  it  to  el  perro  Rideau.  Senor, 
we  women  must  use  what  weapons  we  can,  and  the  price 
he  pay  me — I  have  no  secrets  from  you — was  my  father 's 
safety." 

"I  do  not  venture  to  blame  you,"  said  Maxwell.  "I 
had  partly  guessed  it,  and  your  confidence  is  safe  with 
me,  but  suppose  el  perro  had  proved  too  strong  for  me? 
After  this,  can  I  believe  that  you  would  prove  a  good 
friend  to  me?" 

Miss  Castro  positively  blushed  as  she  drew  her  hand 
away,  but  her  laughter  indicated  a  mingling  of  pride 
with  scorn. 


236  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

"You  are  modest,  senor.  It  is  not  possible  that  the 
cur  dog  should  prove  too  strong  for — you.  To  Dom 
Pedro  I  say  these  Englishmen  will  kill  this  Rideau.  So 
senor,  because  I  hate  him,  you  will  tell  me." 

Maxwell  did  not  speak  for  a  while.  Again  an  impulse 
which  appeared  wholly  illogical  in  face  of  the  girl's  con- 
fession prompted  him  to  tell  her  all;  but  very  much  lay  at 
stake,  and  he  did  not  usually  act  on  impulse.  Meanwhile 
his  companion  watched  him  from  under  the  dark  lashes 
which  half  covered  her  eyes;  while,  unobserved,  the 
sleepy  aunt  watched  them  both.  Bonita  Castro  looked 
bewitchingly  pretty  in  her  filmy  draperies,  perhaps  the 
more  so  because  of  her  curiously  heightened  color;  but 
though  Maxwell  knew  that  she  was  a  woman  who  would 
do  much  when  prompted  by  passion,  she  did  not  look 
like  a  traitress. 

"So  you  fear  to  trust  me,  senor?" 

"On  the  contrary,"  Maxwell  answered,  "I  have  de- 
cided to  trust  you  fully.  In  doing  so,  I  know  that  I 
place  my  life  and  my  comrade's  equally  in  your  hands." 

"  It  is  well ;  I  would  hold  them  safe  if  I  risked  salvation," 
said  the  girl.  "  So  tell  me  everything.  I  shall  be  able  to 
help  you." 

Maxwell  did  so,  and  Miss  Castro  asked  him  many 
questions  which  betokened  a  keenness  of  judgment  that 
surprised  the  man.  He  spent  some  time  in  answering 
them,  and  Bonita  appeared  to  find  pleasure  in  listening 
to  him.  So  while  the  palm-tufts  tossed  behind  the  fac- 
tory and  the  spray  whirled  above  the  beach,  the  minutes, 
slipped  by,  until,  when  the  sun  dipped,  the  seiiora 
woke  up  and  ordered  the  black  major-domo  to  hurry 
forward  comida. 

Bonita,  reappearing  attired  in  filmy  robes  of  black, 


MAXWELL'S  CONFIDENCE  237 

was  more  fascinating  than  ever  during  the  drawn-out 
meal. 

" That  woman  would  turn  any  man's  head,"  murmured 
Maxwell,  inaudibly  he  thought,  and  added,  with  a  smile, 
to  the  sleepy  aunt,  who  glanced  at  him,  "I  was  wonder- 
ing, seiiora,  if  your  distinguished  family  had  a  monopoly 
of  all  the  wit  and  beauty  in  the  Peninsula." 

Maxwell  was  a  little  confused  to  notice  that  Bonita 
had  overheard;  for  a  second  the  long  lashes  dropped 
across  her  eyes,  and  again  there  was  a  flicker  of  damask 
in  her  cheek. 

The  moon  hung  over  the  ocean  which  stretched  away 
before  them,  a  broad  sheet  of  silver,  when  the  two  stood 
once  more  on  the  veranda;  and  Miss  Castro  shivered 
slightly  for  no  apparent  cause  when  Maxwell  announced 
that  it  was  time  for  him  to  take  his  departure.  The  surf 
had  gone  down,  and  the  roar  of  the  breakers  diminished 
to  dull  pulsations  that  fell  drowsily  on  the  ear,  while  the 
warm  breeze  brought  down  the  fragrance  of  spices  and 
lilies  from  the  forest.  Two  of  the  pure  white  blossoms 
nestled  among  the  laces  beneath  Miss  Castro's  neck,  and 
their  fragrance  filled  Maxwell's  nostrils  as  he  stood  close 
beside  her  under  the  effulgent  moonlight  of  the  tropics. 
There  was  a  thrill  in  the  girl's  voice  which,  but  for 
one  fact,  might  have  awakened  an  answering  vibration 
within  him. 

"So  you  have  trusted  me,  sefior,  and  I  am  glad.  It  is 
also  good  that  you  start  from  Little  Mahu,  for  so  el  perro 
hear  the  less  of  you.  There  are  many  black  people  who 
fear  him,  and  tell  him  things,  but  he  come  first  to  this 
factory — and  I  deal  with  him.  You  will  leave  Mahu, 
two,  three,  perhaps  four  weeks  before  him.  It  is  true  you 
have  no  longer  any  doubt  of  me?" 


238  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

"I  have  no  doubt  at  all.  I  have  trusted  you  to  the 
utmost." 

Bonita's  eyes  dropped  swiftly  beneath  his  gaze,  but 
there  was  in  her  attitude  no  sign  of  coquetry.  She  had, 
the  man  thought,  changed  with  the  night,  and  put  on  a 
quiet  simplicity  which  became  her  wonderfully.  Some- 
thing impelled  him  to  add: 

"I  feel  that  I  have  done  wisely." 

Once  more  the  girl's  voice  thrilled  him. 

"It  is  a  dangerous  country,  and  who  can  tell  what  may 
happen;  but,  whatever  it  costs  me,  I  will  help  you." 

Maxwell  felt  strangely  softened  toward  her,  for  it 
seemed  that  some  influence  born  of  the  glamour  of  the 
night  was  at  work  upon  his  will.  It  hardly  seemed  to 
emanate  from  his  companion,  for  Miss  Castro  was  graver 
than  he  had  ever  seen  her;  but  the  strange  mingling  of 
tenderness  and  admiration  grew  stronger  in  him,  and  he 
was  glad  when  the  boom  of  the  steamer's  whistle  rang 
through  the  monotone  of  the  surf. 

"I  must  go,  seiiorita." 

Bonita's  eyes  shone  in  the  moonlight  as,  with  the 
faintest  of  smiles,  she  held  out  her  hand  to  him. 

"It  is  a  perilous  journey,  but  I  will  pray  always  for 
your  safety,"  she  said  softly. 

Maxwell  lifted  the  hat  from  his  head  as,  stooping,  he 
touched  the  olive- tinted  fingers  with  his  lips.  They  trem- 
bled a  little  in  his  grasp. 

"1  thank  you,  seiiorita.    We  are  allies  now." 

Again  the  roar  of  the  whistle  throbbed  across  the  surf, 
and  Maxwell  went  swiftly  down  the  stairway  and  across 
the  sand.  As  the  boat  plunged  out  through  the  breakers 
he  shook  himself  with  an  air  of  irritation  which  attracted 
the  notice  of  the  steamer's  mate. 


MAXWELL'S  CONFIDENCE  239 

"Got  bewildered  trying  to  understand  those  folks?" 
he  asked  sympathetically. 

"No/'  laughed  Maxwell.  "The  fact  is  rather  that  I 
don't  understand  myself." 

"I  dare  say  that  don't  greatly  matter,"  commented  the 
mate.  "Take  a  good  stiff  cocktail  and  give  the  puzzle 
up." 

The  steamer  heaved  her  anchor,  and  rolled  slowly  east- 
ward down  the  coast,  while  Miss  Castro  stood  on  the 
veranda  following  the  tier  of  diminishing  lights  until  they 
faded  and  finally  dipped  into  the  moonlit  sea.  Then  she 
turned  and  walked  very  slowly  into  the  factory  without 
a  word,  leaving  the  sleepy  aunt  lost  in  speculation  when 
the  door  of  her  room  closed  noisily. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

THE  DANGEROUS  SENORITA 

OOME  days  after  Maxwell's  departure  Monsieur  Victor 
^-5  Rideau,  traveling  in  hot  haste,  arrived  at  Castro's 
factory.  Dom  Pedro  was  absent  in  the  bush,  but  his 
daughter  frowned  when  she  saw  the  visitor  coming.  She 
was  standing  on  the  veranda  where  she  had  bidden  Max- 
well farewell;  and  this  fact  recalled  the  contrast  between 
them,  which  was  distinctly  striking,  and  to  Monsieur 
Rideau 's  disadvantage.  Maxwell  wore  an  indefinite  air 
of  refinement,  which  is  the  birthright  of  some  favored 
Britons,  and  there  was  a  good  deal  of  finely- tempered 
steel  in  his  composition;  Rideau  was  by  no  means  ill- 
favored,  and  as  usual  with  gentlemen  of  his  extraction, 
dressed  himself  almost  too  well;  but  his  face  was  sensual, 
his  black  hair  over-crisp,  and,  in  spite  of  his  very  cunning 
eyes,  there  were  other  signs  that  his  animal  appetites 
might  on  occasion  prove  stronger  than  his  judgment. 

When  he  descended  from  his  hammock,  attired  in 
spotless  duck  and  American  brown  shoes,  he  was  evi- 
dently well  contented  with  himself. 

"I  compassionate  you  on  your  misfortune,"  said  Miss 
Castro.  "My  father  may  not  return  until  midnight, 
and  you  will  have  only  myself  and  my  aunt,  who  is 
always  sleepy,  for  company." 

"What  better  could  any  man  desire?"  There  was  a 
look  of  the  African  in  Rideau 's  over-bold  eyes,  and  the 

240 


THE  DANGEROUS  SE^ORITA        241 

girl  regarded  him  frigidly.  "I  go  east  by  the  steamer 
which  will  call  to-night,"  he  continued,  "and  hurried  for 
the  pleasure  of  a  few  hours  of  your  company.  The 
English  adventurer  has  called  here,  is  it  not  so?" 

That  was  sufficient  warning,  and  Bonita  Castro  pre- 
pared for  the  fray.  The  weapons  she  chose  in  the  first 
place  were  merely  demure  glances  and  opportune  smiles; 
and  though  many  of  his  speeches  stung  her  pride  to  the 
quick,  she  fooled  Monsieur  Rideau  cleverly,  and  extracted 
from  him  more  information  than  he  meant  to  impart. 
Still,  when  the  black  major-domo  set  out  the  comida  and 
Miss  Castro  withdrew,  the  visitor  might  have  lounged 
less  complacently  on  the  veranda  had  he  seen  her  kneel- 
ing, with  a  face  that  was  stamped  with  hatred,  beside 
the  factory  medicine  chest.  She  lifted  a  ribbed  glass 
phial,  and  glanced  at  it  earnestly,  then  let  it  fall  back, 
took  out  another,  and  clutched  at  the  chest,  when  she 
saw  that  the  door  had  opened  a  little.  Then,  as  the 
rustle  of  the  palm-fronds  suggested  that  the  breeze  was 
accountable  for  this,  she  slipped  the  bottle  behind  a  vase 
on  the  window-sill,  and  went  out  softly.  Hardly  had  she 
done  so  than  the  Senora  Diaz  entered  silently,  lifted  the 
bottle,  and  read  its  label,  and  then,  with  a  gesture  which 
expressed  both  relief  and  perplexity,  replaced  it.  The 
senora  was  much  more  observant  than  she  seemed  to  be, 
and  was  by  no  means  a  friend  of  Victor  Rideau. 

It  might  have  been  better  for  Rideau  had  he  reached 
the  factory  after  dinner.  He  did  not  eat  prettily,  and 
Miss  Castro  had  lived  long  enough  in  the  Iberian  penin- 
sula to  grow  particular  about  small  matters.  Also,  he 
drank  freely,  and  while  his  voice  grew  louder  his  con- 
sonants lost  their  crispness.  Rideau  spoke  several 
civilized  languages,  but  that  night  he  emphasized  the 


242  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

vowels  after  the  fashion  of  the  negro.  Though  not 
excessively  indulgent,  Dom  Pedro's  old  Madeira  had 
awakened  a  side  of  his  nature  he  usually  kept  in  subjec- 
tion, and  perhaps  it  had  slightly  clouded  his  judgment. 
In  any  case,  the  Senora  Diaz  frowned  at  some  of  the 
compliments  he  paid  her  niece,  and  her  ancient  laces 
rustled  as  she  stirred  with  indignation,  for  while  compli- 
ments were  common  in  her  country,  they  were  character- 
ized by  either  a  becoming  deference  or  scintillating  wit. 
Once  or  twice  she  glanced  sharply  at  the  girl,  who  was 
generally  quite  capable  of  resenting  a  liberty;  but  Bonita 
did  not  heed  her.  She  was  working  for  an  end,  and 
working  skilfully.  Perhaps  she  suffered  during  the  proc- 
ess, but  that  was  only  part  of  the  price  of  victory. 

The  comida,  was  cleared  away  at  length,  and  when 
Bonita  accompanied  her  guest  to  the  moonlit  veranda, 
she  made  it  manifest  that  she  did  not  desire  her  aunt's 
company.  Nevertheless  the  Senora  Diaz,  who  respected 
the  customs  of  the  Peninsula,  seated  herself  beside  an 
open  window  and  saw  all  that  passed.  Rideau  lounged 
in  a  cane  chair  with  a  cigar  in  his  hand,  while  Bonita 
stood  upright,  dropping  morsels  of  ice  presented  by  a 
steamboat  purser  into  the  bowl  which  rested  on  the  little 
table  at  his  side.  A  Frenchman  would  not  have  shown 
such  lack  of  manners.  Rideau's  very  leer,  which 
grew  more  pronounced,  conveyed  a  hint  that  he  knew 
he  held  the  whip  hand,  and  meant  to  use  it;  with  any 
one  of  Miss  Castro's  disposition,  that  was  very  bad 
policy. 

"It  is  charming,  seiiorita.  I  have  done  much  for 
you;  you  do  a  little  now  for  me." 

Miss  Castro  dropped  the  next  lump  of  ice  somewhat 
hastily,  so  that  the  liquid  splashed  over  the  table;  but 


THE  DANGEROUS  SEtfORITA        243 

she  smiled  with  apparent  good  humor,  and  the  man 
grew  more  bold. 

"You  will  sit  here  while  I  tell  you  something,  is  it 
not  so  ?  This  scene  is  so  charming  that  after  I  make  one 
more  journey  I  have  resolved  to  cultivate  the  domestic 
virtue." 

"That  is  commendable,"  said  the  girl,  smiling. 
"Might  one  compliment  you  on  such  a  piece  of  self- 
denial?" 

She  did  not  forget  that  the  African's  greatest  weak- 
ness is  vanity,  as  Rideau  answered  her  with  a  depreca- 
tory smile: 

"  It  is  not  my  fault  if  many  women  love  me.  Perhaps 
they  are  foolish  and  trust  to  the  eye.  But,  me,  I 
aspire,  and  am  only  content  with  the  great  mind  and 
virtue." 

Miss  Castro,  instead  of  meeting  his  glance,  appeared 
to  be  looking  out  to  sea,  and  Rideau  continued,  still 
far  too  complacently: 

"Now  I  see  all  that  I  desire — the  peace,  the  tran- 
quillity, the  night  that  speaks  of  love,  and  the  company 
of  the  peerless  Bonita." 

The  girl  laughed  as  she  turned  upon  him;  but  her 
sleepy  aunt,  who  sat  by  the  window,  knew  that  the 
passion  which  called  the  color  to  her  forehead  and  set  a 
sparkle  in  her  eyes  was  by  no  means  love. 

"Is  that  another  empty  compliment,  monsieur?" 
she  asked  lightly. 

"It  is  the  ambition  of  my  life,"  he  declared  in  a 
deeper  tone;  "and  a  long  time  I  dream  of  it.  Now 
when  I  make  one  more  journey  I  ask  you  to  gratify  it." 

"You  must  be  more  explicit.  And  is  it  the  custom 
of  France — or  Africa — to  make  such  speeches — so?" 


244  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

Rideau  frowned,  and  for  a  moment  it  appeared  that 
he  would  have  preferred  the  African  custom  of  choosing 
his  bride;  but  remembering  what  he  claimed  to  be,  he 
stood  upright,  a  full-fleshed,  crisp-haired  figure,  with 
his  sensual  lips  showing  too  prominently. 

"  I  have  the  honor  to  offer  you  my  name  and  devotion, 
senorita." 

"That  is  very  much  better/'  laughed  Miss  Castro. 
"But  are  you  quite  sure  you  would  not  find  domestic 
happiness  grow  monotonous?  I,  at  least,  have  been 
my  own  mistress  so  long  that  it  might  not  content  me. 
What  else  have  you  to  offer?'' 

"An  affection  that  will  not  weary,"  was  the  answer, 
and  the  man  dramatically  laid  his  hand  where  he  sup- 
posed his  heart  to  be. 

"And  if  even  that  were  not  enough?" 

"All  the  good  things  that  money  can  buy,  and 
women  love.  I  shall  be  a  rich  man  presently." 

"You  have  not  won  those  riches  yet;  and  white  men 
have  lost  their  lives  already  in  the  Leopards'  country. 
You  should  understand  me." 

Rideau  blundered  when  he  resolved  to  use  the  strong 
hand  at  last. 

"There  is  still  something — the  safety  of  your  father. 
It  is,  as  I  have  once  said,  forbidden  with  the  heaviest 
penalty  to  sell  the  black  man  the  modern  rifle,  and 
Dom  Pedro  has  sold  more  than  this." 

It  is  possible  that  Miss  Castro  had  expected  a  similar 
answer,  but  the  speaker's  tone  and  the  glitter  of  his 
eyes  would  liave  inspired  most  women  with  misgivings 
under  the  circumstances. 

"You  are  forgetful,"  she  said  slowly.  "I  have 
bought  that  from  you  already." 


THE  DANGEROUS  SEftORITA        245 

Rideau  laughed. 

"You  are  mistaken.  You  sold  me  the  English 
madman's  map  for  the  Emir's  agreement,  but  you  did 
not  buy  my  lieutenant  or  the  black  headman  who  hired 
your  father  his  people,  and  is  a  good  friend  of  me. 
Senorita,  you  quite  fail  to  comprehend  me.  To  those 
who  love  me  I  give  everything,  but  with  those  who 
bargain  it  is  different.  You  are  too  young  and  pretty 
to  drive  a  hard  one  with  me." 

The  girl  turned  from  him,  and  walked  slowly  across 
the  veranda  with  her  back  toward  her  suitor  and  her 
face  toward  the  sea,  so  that  he  could  not  see  how  one 
hand  slipped  without  a  rustle  beneath  a  fold  of  her  dress. 
He  had  left  her  but  one  way  out  of  the  difficulty,  and 
it  was  dangerous;  but  gauging  the  quality  of  her  antag- 
onist she  was  content  to  take  the  risks.  The  sleepy 
aunt  saw,  however,  and  smiled  grimly  to  herself. 

Then  Miss  Castro  turned,  and  smiled. 

"It  is  a  long  journey  to  the  Leopards'  country,  and 
many  things  may  happen  on  the  way.  You  would  be 
wise  to  wait  for  my  answer,  monsieur.  What  you  offer 
appears  insufficient  now,  but  few  women  are  sure  of 
their  own  minds,  so  some  wise  men  say;  and,  who  knows, 
when  you  come  back  I  may  think  differently.  I  have 
duties  to  attend  to,  and  may  not  see  you  before  you 
sail,  but  I  want  your  promise  to  keep  silence  in  the 
meantime.  Pledge  it  in  Vermouth." 

Before  the  man  could  answer,  she  had  passed  into 
the  house  and  returned  with  a  small  flask  and  two  fresh 
glasses.  One  was  brimming,  and  she  filled  the  other 
before  she  held  it  out  to  him. 

"A  swift  journey  to  the  land  of  the  Leopard!"  she  said. 

Miss  Castro's  voice  was  steady,  though  she  waited 


246  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

almost  breathlessly  while  the  man  stood  undecided, 
holding  up  the  cup.  It  was  evident  that  he  was 
averse  to  delay,  and  yet  afraid  to  lose  by  undue 
precipitancy. 

"So,  I  give  the  promise.  To  your  bright  eyes, 
senorita.  It  is  a  journey  I  make  for  you." 

Rideau  laid  the  glass  down  empty,  and  with  a  swift 
salutation  that  was  half-ironical,  and  a  swish  of  light 
draperies,  Miss  Castro  had  vanished  before  he  quite 
realized  that  she  had  left  him.  When  he  did,  he  gnawed 
the  end  off  a  cigar,  and  lay  thoughtfully  back  in  his 
chair.  It  struck  him  that  perhaps  he  might  find 
Bonita  Castro  much  less  amenable  to  his  wishes  and 
more  difficult  to  live  with  than  a  deeper-tinted  help- 
mate. 

In  tne  meantime,  a  group  of  chattering  Krooboys 
were  lighting  a  fire  on  the  crest  of  the  bluff,  their  figures 
outlined  against  the  increasing  glare.  It  was  a  signal  to 
the  east-bound  steamer  due  to  pass  shortly  that  cargo 
or  passengers  were  awaiting  her.  Rideau  watched 
the  blaze  until  it  flared  high  aloft  in  token  that  the 
fire  had  good  hold,  then  he  walked  slowly  to  the  rail 
of  the  veranda  and  leaned  over  it,  as  though  expect- 
ing an  answering  light  from  the  moonlit  sea.  There 
was  none,  and  presently  he  walked  back,  still  more 
slowly,  and  sank  into  his  chair  with  a  sigh.  Then 
his  shoulders  sank  lower  until  his  head  drooped  forward 
and  there  was  silence  in  the  veranda  except  for  the  sound 
of  his  uneven  breathing.  This  had  scarcely  continued 
five  minutes  when  a  slender  black-robed  figure  flitted 
out  of  a  shadowy  door,  and  the  profile  of  a  woman's  face 
was  silhouetted  against  the  moonlight  as  it  bent  over 
the  sleeper. 


THE  DANGEROUS  SENORITA        247 

"Sleep  soundly,  and  awake  too  late!"  a  voice  said, 
and  the  figure  vanished  again. 

Presently,  perhaps  because  there  was  nobody  to 
watch  them,  or  they  had  been  regaled  too  freely  with 
factory  gin,  the  Krooboys  left  to  tend  the  fire  curled 
themselves  up  beside  it,  and  when  an  hour  had  passed, 
only  a  thin  column  of  vapor  rose  up  from  the  bluff. 
The  stokers  slumbered  peacefully,  as  did  the  comrades 
they  should  have  awakened,  when  the  twinkle  of  a 
masthead  light  crept  nearer  from  out  at  sea.  It  rose 
until  the  black  patch  beneath  it  lengthened  into  a  line 
of  wallowing  hull;  but  the  fresh  land  breeze  and  the 
clamor  of  the  surf  between  them  rendered  the  hoot  of 
the  steamer's  whistle  but  faintly  audible  at  the  factory. 
Still,  the  Sefiora  Diaz  awakened,  and  sitting  upright 
on  her  couch  near  an  open  window,  looked  out  on  to 
the  veranda.  Her  niece  stood  in  a  doorway,  with  the 
moonlight  on  her  face,  which  showed  white  and  anxious 
as  she  watched  the  sleeping  figure. 

The  girl  set  her  lips  tight  when  again  the  whistle's 
summons,  ringing  louder  this  time,  was  flung  back  by 
the  bluff  behind  the  factory;  but  Rideau  lay  motionless 
in  his  chair;  and  Bonita  quivered  all  through  when, 
finding  his  signal  unanswered,  the  steamboat  skipper 
burned  a  crimson  flare.  She  could  see  the  wall  of  hull 
and  slanting  spars  sharp  and  clear  in  the  blood-red  glare, 
with  the  figure  of  a  man  leaning  out  from  the  slanted 
bridge  projected  against  it,  but  there  was  still  no  answer 
from  either  bluff  or  factory,  and  with  a  last  blast  of 
the  whistle  the  steamer  moved  on.  No  other  boat 
would  call  for  a  fortnight,  and  this  one  would  have 
saved  Rideau  a  protracted  and  risky  surf-boat  voyage, 
or  a  weary  march  through  the  jungles  overland. 


248  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

It  was  past  midnight  when  Dom  Pedro's  hammock 
came  lurching  into  the  compound,  and,  alighting  stiffly, 
the  trader  climbed  the  veranda  steps.  He  started 
on  reaching  the  veranda,  for  there  was  nobody  to  meet 
him,  only  a  man  whose  visits  he  had  learned  to  dread, 
asleep  in  a  chair.  The  trader  bent  over  him;  and  by  the 
way  his  eyes  glistened  and  his  fingers  twitched  as  he 
saw  that  the  duck  jacket  had  fallen  open,  leaving  the 
dusky  throat  bare,  an  observer  might  have  concluded 
that  he  would  not  have  been  sorry  had  some  accident 
prevented  the  sleeper  from  ever  awakening.  Still, 
Dom  Pedro  was  only  a  man  of  lax  principles;  he 
shrugged  his  shoulders  as  he  quoted  a  Castilian  proverb, 
and  then  he  shook  his  guest  by  the  arm.  Rideau  sat 
upright,  grasping  the  arms  of  his  chair.  He  stared  at 
the  table,  possibly  seeking  the  glass  he  had  drunk  from, 
but  it  was  not  there,  and  rising  shakily,  he  staggered 
toward  the  balustrade. 

"What  hour  is  it?"  he  asked. 

"Past  twelve.  It  is  not  good  to  sleep  in  the  moon- 
light, my  friend." 

Rideau' s  face  was  a  study  of  evil  passions,  but  his 
reason  resumed  the  mastery.  The  fact  that  the  glasses 
were  missing  was  significant,  and  perhaps  he  recognized 
that  the  woman  might  prove  no  contemptible  adversary; 
for  he  answered  Dom  Pedro  calmly. 

"Your  wine  is  too  good,  and  I  have  slept  so  well  that 
it  seems  I  have  missed  the  steamer.  Well,  there  are 
other  means  of  transit,  and,  if  it  is  not  too  late,  you 
and  I  have  business  to  talk  about." 

A  light  shone  in  a  window  of  the  factory  for  an  hour 
after  this,  and  when  Victor  Rideau  walked  somewhat 


THE  DANGEROUS  SENORITA        249 

unevenly  toward  his  quarters,  Dom  Pedro  cursed  him 
under  his  breath. 

The  next  morning  he  demanded  a  surf-boat  and  Kroo- 
boy  crew,  and  when  his  host  had  provided  them,  he  sought 
speech  with  his  daughter  before  embarking.  Rideau 
did  not  look  his  best  that  morning.  His  eyes  were 
heavy ,Jthe  color  of  his  face  was  mottled  in  patches; 
and  he  was  in  a  dangerous  humor.  Miss  Castro,  how- 
ever, did  not  avoid  him. 

"It  is  to  be  hoped  that  you  passed  a  good  night," 
she  said. 

Rideau  could  not  have  failed  to  notice  the  boldness 
of  the  challenge.  He  looked  at  her  steadily,  and  his 
glance  expressed  desire  rather  than  resentment.  The 
girl  grew  hot  beneath  his  gaze  as  he  surveyed  her  crit- 
ically, after  the  manner  of  one  appraising  a  costly 
bargain. 

"I  slept  well — so  well  that  I  missed  the  steamer — 
and  awakened  with  a  heaviness  I  can  guess  the  cause 
of.  You  have  a  bold  spirit — and  that  pleases  me;  but 
you  are  dangerous,  sefiorita — so  dangerous  that  even 
if  you  were  not  otherwise  very  desirable,  I  dare  not  let 
you  go." 

Miss  Castro  returned  no  answer,  and  the  man  added 
threateningly: 

"If  you  have  not  a  promise  to  make  me  when  I  return 
from  this  journey,  it  will  be  very  bad  for  Dom 
Pedro." 

The  girl  clenched  one  hand  tightly,  but  her  voice  was 
clear  as  she  answered  him. 

"You  shall  have  your  promise  now.  If  you  come 
back  from  the  Leopards'  country,  I  will  marry  you." 

Rideau    appeared    both    gratified    and    perplexed. 


250  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

Possibly  he  felt  that  he  should  seal  the  bargain;  but 
the  girl's  attitude  did  not  encourage  him,  and  he  had 
learned  that  it  was  not  judicious  to  press  her  too  hardly. 
So  he  answered  with  a  bow  which  had  in  it  little  Latin 
grace. 

"Then  one  must  defer  his  happiness.  The  senorita 
will  not  forget." 

"I  have  given  my  word,"  said  Miss  Castro  calmly. 
"You  may  claim  the  fulfilment  of  my  promise  if  we 
are  both  alive  when  two  months  have  passed." 

Rideau  shivered  slightly  as  he  turned  away.  He 
had  inherited  more  than  a  trace  of  superstition  from  one 
side  of  his  ancestry,  and  there  was  an  unusual  signifi- 
cance in  the  speaker's  tone,  and  he  had  heard  stories 
respecting  her  powers  of  prediction.  A  few  minutes 
later  he  departed  eastward  in  a  surf-boat,  and  it  was  not 
a  blessing  which  Dom  Pedro,  standing  on  the  beach, 
sent  after  him. 


CHAPTER  XX 
MAXWELL'S  LAST  MARCH 

MAXWELL  was  never  addicted  to  losing  time,  and, 
thanks  to  Miss  Castro's  efforts,  he  had  a  clear 
start  of  Rideau,  when  he  left  Little  Mahu.  Redmond, 
being  warned  by  a  message  posted  on  from  the  cable 
station  farther  along  the  coast,  had  a  number  of  picked 
men  ready;  and  Amadu  declared  that  they  were  sturdy 
cattle.  Both  traders  had  done  their  utmost,  and  by 
dint  of  working  night  and  day,  Maxwell  was  able  to 
leave  their  factory  two  days  after  he  reached  it. 

They  followed  him  to  the  compound  gate,  where 
Gilby  gazed  longingly  at  the  forest  and  then  sighed  as  he 
surveyed  the  line  of  brawny  men,  each  of  whom  stood 
waiting  beside  his  burden.  Their  clothing  was  simple. 
Broad  folds  of  white  cotton  hung  over  one  shoulder, 
and,  drooping  to  the  knee,  were  belted  at  the  waist  by 
a  band  from  which  a  matchet  hung.  A  number  of  the 
men  also  carried  long  flintlock  guns. 

"They're  warranted  free  from  civilization,  and  fit 
for  almost  anything,  if  you  drive  them  with  a  tight 
rein,"  Gilby  said. 

"The  niggers  are  fit  enough,"  agreed  Redmond.  "If 
I  were  you,  Maxwell,  I  wouldn't  spare  them.  Nobody 
has  heard  anything  of  Rideau  since  he  reported  you  as 
hopelessly  hemmed  in,  but  there's  not  much  happens 
in  this  region  he  does  not  get  news  of,  and  it's  my 
humble  opinion  he'll  turn  up  somewhere  along  your 

251 


252  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

trail  just  when  you  least  desire  to  see  him.  As  you 
probably  know,  news  travels  very  fast  in  this  country. 
That  fellow  must  have  some  influence  with  the  nigger 
headmen  or  the  chiefs  of  the  Leopards,  or  somebody 
would  have  cut  his  throat  long  ago.  You'll  have  to 
push  on  your  fastest  to  keep  ahead  of  him." 

"I  quite  appreciate  the  necessity,"  Maxwell  replied 
quietly.  "But  if  it  were  not  for  my  comrade's  sake 
I  think  I'd  wait  for  him.  It  strikes  me  that  I  am  wast- 
ing precious  time  now,  and  I'll  leave  you  with  my  best 
thanks  for  your  assistance." 

One  trader  thumped  him  on  the  back,  the  other 
grasped  his  hand. 

"Good  luck!"  cried  Redmond.  "We'll  put  a  spoke 
in  Rideau's  wheel  if  we  can." 

"You're  the  sort  of  man  I  take  to!"  Gilby  added. 
"We'll  use  up  a  whole  quarter's  allowance,  and  turn 
this  place  inside  out  when  you  come  back  again." 

Maxwell  beckoned  to  Amadu,  and  waved  his  hand 
to  the  traders,  as  his  carriers  picked  up  their  loads; 
and  the  two  stood  gazing  after  him  until  the  steamy 
forest  swallowed  the  long  line  of  plodding  men.  They 
never  saw  him  again,  and  it  was  some  time  before  any 
news  of  his  movements  reached  them,  but  meanwhile 
Gilby  nearly  brought  about  the  death  of  Rideau's 
principal  assistant,  and  ever  afterward  regretted  he  did 
not  wholly  do  so. 

That  evening  Gilby  was  returning  with  a  gun  in  his 
hand  from  a  prowl  beside  a  lagoon  soon  after  darkness 
fell,  when  his  boot  became  unlaced  near  the  factory 
boys'  quarters,  which  stood  at  some  distance  from  the 
white  men's  dwelling.  Gilby  seated  himself  on  a  fallen 
log,  and  remained  a  few  minutes  glancing  meditatively, 


MAXWELL'S  LAST  MARCH  253 

but  unseen  himSelf,  toward  a  group  of  dusky  figures 
crouching  around  a  cooking-fire  just  outside  the  edifice. 
They  sat  with  their  backs  toward  the  long,  low  shed, 
and,  because  the  fire  had  sunk,  the  light  was  dim  and 
fitful.  Accordingly,  Gilby  saw,  though  the  negroes  did 
not,  a  shadowy  form  crawl  without  a  sound  down 
the  slope  of  thatch.  With  suspicions  aroused,  Gilby 
reached  out  for  his  gun.  It  was  a  heavy  big-bore,  and 
there  was  a  large- shot  cartridge  in  either  chamber. 

Still,  he  was  distinctly  puzzled  until  the  crawling 
object  resolved  itself  into  a  man,  who  dropped  noise- 
lessly from  the  overhanging  eaves,  and  the  next  moment 
appeared  before  the  astonished  negroes,  as  though  he 
had  fallen  from  the  clouds.  It  was  cleverly  done,  and 
Gilby  could  see  by  the  negroes'  attitude  that  they  were 
impressed.  The  stranger  was  evidently  one  of  the 
wandering  magicians  who  are  a  power  in  that  country, 
and  wanted  something  from  the  Krooboys.  Gilby, 
having  suffered  by  the  visits  of  similar  gentlemen, 
determined  to  demonstrate  to  his  servants  the  hollow- 
ness  of  such  trickery,  and  furnish  the  intruder  with 
cause  to  regret  having  frightened  them.  He  could  see 
the  dusky  figures  shrink  backward  until  the  stranger 
checked  them  with  an  imperious  gesture,  and  asked 
questions  in  some  native  tongue.  As  Gilby  crept 
carefully  nearer,  the  man's  appearance  seemed  to  be 
familiar.  He  wore  a  broad  palm-leaf  hat  low  down  on 
his  forehead,  but  as  the  firelight  leaped  up  the  trader 
felt  almost  certain  that  he  had  before  him  Rideau's 
headman. 

"If  you  lib  for  move  a  foot,  I'll  shoot  you!"  he 
shouted,  pitching  up  the  gun. 

There  was  a  murmur,  apparently  of  relief,  from  the 


254  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

Kroos,  and,  though  Gilby  afterward  said  he  did  not 
run,  the  stranger's  figure  grew  less  distinct.  It  had 
almost  vanished  when  he  called  again,  and,  receiving 
no  answer,  pressed  the  trigger.  A  wisp  of  smoke  blew 
into  his  eyes,  he  heard  the  lead  smash  through  the  frail 
boarding  of  the  shed;  but  though  he  was  a  tolerable 
shot  there  was  no  other  sound  beyond  the  concussion 
flung  back  from  the  palms  above.  Gilby,  dashing 
forward,  searched  all  the  surrounding  bush  before  he 
returned  to  the  Krooboys,  having  found  nothing. 

"What  did  them  Ju-ju  man  lib  for  want?"  he  asked. 

"He  done  ask  us  how  many  boy  them  white  man  take, 
and  when  he  lib  for  bush,  sah,"  answered  a  trembling 
negro. 

"I'll  stop  half  your  rations  if  the  next  time  he  comes 
one  of  you  doesn't  lib  for  get  out  sofHy,  soifly,  and  tell 
me,"  said  the  trader.  "I'll  also  flog  any  boy  who  tells 
him  what  he  wants  to  know!" 

"Were  you  trying  to  shoot  yourself,  Gilby?"  asked 
Redmond,  meeting  him  at  the  foot  of  the  stairway. 
"I'd  try  to  hang  out  here  on  top  as  long  as  possible,  if 
I  were  you." 

"I  was  trying  to  shoot  one  of  those  confounded  Ju-ju 
men,  more  fool  me.  The  beggar  got  away,  and,  though 
of  course  it  was  trickery,  he  did  it  cleverly.  I  believe 
it  was  that  brute  of  Rideau's." 

"Then  it  would  have  saved  somebody  a  lot  of  trouble 
if  you  had  held  straighter.  Rideau  doesn't  usually 
make  his  movements  plain,  but  it  will  be  unlucky  for 
Maxwell  if  those  two  rascals  are  on  his  trail." 

Maxwell  in  the  meantime  was  pushing  north  with 
feverish  haste.  He  did  not  know  what  had  happened 
at  the  factory,  but  he  feared  many  things,  and  guessed 


MAXWELL'S  LAST  MARCH  255 

that  his  rival  would  miss  no  opportunity  to  prevent  his 
joining  hands  with  his  comrade.  Still,  he  could  not 
forecast  what  his  plan  would  be,  and  could  only  re- 
double his  precautions  and  make  Amadu  solemnly 
promise  to  carry  relief  to  the  threatened  camp  if  disaster 
overtook  him  personally.  Also  he  traveled  very  fast, 
for  Maxwell  possessed  the  gift  of  getting  the  utmost  out 
of  his  men,  and  because  news  flies  swiftly  through  the 
African  bush,  that  perhaps  accounted  for  his  being  able  to 
cover  the  distance  he  did  before  misfortune  overtook  him. 

The  rains  had  set  in,  when,  with  Amadu  some  paces 
behind  him,  he  plodded  one  day  through  thick  jungle 
before  his  men.  The  deluge  had  ceased  during  the  last 
hour,  but  the  narrow  path  ran  water,  while  the  cane, 
which  grew  higher  than  a  tall  man's  head  on  either  side, 
shook  down  drenching  showers  alike  on  soaked  white 
man  and  naked  negro.  Belts  of  thick  steam  drifted 
across  it  in  places.  There  was  no  sound  but  the  splash 
of  moisture  and  the  fall  of  weary  feet,  but  Maxwell, 
with  his  pistol  loose  in  its  waterproof  holster,  marched 
the  more  cautiously.  He  had  faced  numerous  perils 
in  his  time,  and  had  learned  never  to  run  an  unneces- 
sary risk;  and  the  jungle  he  traversed  was  particularly 
suitable  for  an  ambush. 

Amadu,  who  recognized  this,  also  was  vigilant,  and 
swept  the  cane  on  either  side  with  searching  eyes.  He 
endeavored  to  persuade  his  master  to  travel  in  his 
hammock;  but  unavailingly.  Therefore  he  carried  the 
long  Snider  rifle  with  its  breech  well  covered  by  his  arm, 
and  felt  at  times  with  wet  fingers  for  the  hilt  of  the  short, 
straight  blade,  which  hung  at  his  side.  He  was  a  toler- 
able shot,  but  like  most  of  the  Moslem  tribesmen 
deadly  with  the  steel. 


256     THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

"These  men  march  well,"  said  Maxwell.  "We 
should  reach  the  camp  within  a  week  if  nothing  hinders 
us.  Tell  them  to  spread  out  a  little  and  keep  their 
matchets  ready.  The  cane  is  getting  thicker." 

Amadu  moved  backward  along  the  plodding  line, 
and  when  he  turned  to  rejoin  his  master,  Maxwell  was 
some  distance  in  front  of  him.  The  path  twisted 
sharply  round  a  thicker  clump  of  cane,  and  suddenly 
Amadu  caught  a  glimpse  of  a  tiny  black  patch  among 
the  dripping  stems.  Nevertheless,  he  evinced  no  sign 
of  notice  until  he  was  certain  that  the  black  strip  formed 
part  of  a  human  arm;  and  then  he  was  called  upon  to 
make  an  eventful  decision.  The  dusky  soldier  of  for- 
tune knew  that  if  an  ambush  had  been  planted  among 
the  cane  the  lurking  foe  would,  should  both  pass  appar- 
ently unobservant,  hold  their  fire  until,  by  a  volley 
poured  into  the  main  body,  they  could  spread  panic  and 
cut  the  column  in  two.  That  might  mean  the  loss  of 
many  black  men;  but  Amadu  counted  these  as  beasts 
of  burden  in  comparison  with  his  master.  He  guessed 
that  almost  before  he  could  pitch  up  his  rifle  a  poisoned 
arrow  or  a  charge  of  ragged  potleg  would  strike  down  the 
white  man.  So  he  held  on  stolidly,  with  dusky  lips  set 
tight,  hoping  that  Maxwell  might  not  see  what  he  had 
until  the  corner  was  passed.  Then  there  might  still 
be  time  to  crawl  in  upon  the  enemy  from  behind. 

Maxwell  walked  straight  on  until  he  turned  and 
glanced  over  his  shoulder;  then  he  shook  the  moisture 
from  his  jacket,  and  in  doing  so,  let  his  hand  slip  from 
its  lower  corner  to  his  revolver  holster.  He  turned 
again,  with  death,  as  it  were,  suspended  above  his  head; 
and  Amadu  gasped  as  he  approached  the  thicker  clump 
of  cane.  There  was  now  no  sign  of  an  enemy's  presence 


MAXWELL'S  LAST  MARCH  257 

in  all  the  jungle;  only  the  splashing  and  panting  of  the 
carriers  behind. 

Suddenly  the  white  man's  hand  swept  out  level  with 
his  shoulder,  and  almost  at  the  same  instant  a  bright 
flash  blazed  from  the  cane.  Then  the  quick  ringing  of 
a  rifle  broke  through  the  dull  thud  of  the  flintlock  and 
the  pistol's  second  crack,  and  Maxwell,  reeling  a  little, 
hurled  himself  into  the  thicket. 

With  a  roar  to  those  who  followed,  Amadu  plunged 
in  too,  a  score  of  clamorous  black  men  with  naked 
blades  hard  behind,  and  was  just  in  time  to  spring  upon 
a  naked  man  who  strove  to  clear  an  entangled  foot  from 
the  creeper  withes.  The  short  blade  twice  passed 
through  him;  and  wrenching  it  free  with  an  exultant 
laugh,  Amadu  floundered  on.  For  a  space  he  and  his 
followers  smashed  through  that  strip  of  jungle,  but  found 
only  a  smoking  rifle  and  one  flintlock  gun;  then  calling 
off  the  rest,  he  led  them  back  to  the  path.  Maxwell 
was  sitting  there  in  a  pool  of  water. 

"Send  those  boys  back,"  he  said  thickly.  "One  of 
those  brutes  missed  me,  the  other  did  not.  One  can't 
always  guess  aright,  Amadu,  and  I  thought  there  were 
at  least  a  score  of  them." 

Amadu  groaned.  He  could  see  that  his  master  was 
hard  stricken,  for  he  looked  faint  and  cold,  and  did  not 
usually  converse  with  his  subordinates  in  that  kind 
of  English.  Still,  he  understood  the  first  sentence,  and 
drove  the  curious  black  men  back  beyond  the  corner 
before  he  stooped  over  the  speaker.  Maxwell's  face 
was  distorted  and  clammy.  There  was  a  stain  on  the 
side  of  his  jacket,  and  it  plainly  cost  hirf  an  effort  to 
speak. 

"Did  you  lib  for  chop  them  bush  boy,  Amadu?" 


258  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

"One  of  him,  sab,"  was  the  grim  answer.  "He  done 
leave  them  rifle." 

"Let  me  see,"  said  Maxwell.  "That  is  an  old  chasse- 
pot.  Rideau  had  a  number  of  them.  You  don't  quite 
follow?  Well,  you  got  the  wrong  man,  Amadu.  Don't 
stand  there,  but  slit  up  this  jacket.  Chop  them  cloff 
piece  up  the  side  of  him." 

Amadu  did  it  with  the  still  wet  blade,  and  groaned 
again  when  Maxwell,  turning  his  head  a  little,  looked 
down  at  the  slow,  red  trickle  from  his  right  side,  then 
passed  his  hand  across  his  lips  and  nodded  when  he 
saw  what  there  was  upon  it. 

"Take  them  liP  silver  bottle  out  of  my  pocket  and 
pull  the  top  off  him,"  he  said  very  slowly;  and  when 
Amadu  had  done  so  he  gulped  down  a  draught  of  luke- 
warm brandy  before  he  spoke  again. 

"I  don't  suppose  it's  much  use,  but  you  may  as  well 
take  the  knife  that's  in  the  pocket,  and  feel  if  there's 
any  potleg  near  the  top.  Well,  why  don't  you  do  it? 
You  need  not  be  frightened.  It  won't  bleed  much — 
that  way." 

Amadu  shivered  as  he  probed  the  wound.  Maxwell's 
face  grew  grayer,  and  after  a  downward  glance  out  of 
half-closed  eyes  he  shook  his  head  and  stretched  out 
one  hand  for  more  of  the  brandy.  Then  there  was  a 
heavy  silence  for  several  minutes. 

"If  I  could  lie  still  with  ice  to  suck  until  somebody 
brought  a  surgeon  there  might  be  a  chance;  but  that's 
out  of  the  question  here,"  he  said  in  a  rambling  fashion, 
and  then  roused  himself.  "You  don't  understand. 
Well,  I'll  try  in  the  little  I  know  of  your  own  idiom. 
We  have  made  two  great  journeys  together,  but  now 


MAXWELL'S  LAST  MARCH  259 

it  is  written  that  I  shall  shortly  set  out  on  a  longer  one 
alone,  Amadu." 

Maxwell  spoke  thickly,  but  there  was  a  wry  smile 
on  his  lips  as  he  watched  the  big  dark-skinned  alien, 
who,  rending  his  cotton  robe,  bound  a  pad  of  wet 
leaves  upon  the  injured  side. 

"It  is  useless,  Amadu."  Maxwell  coughed  once  or 
twice.  "Listen.  Because  of  something  you  may  re- 
member you  dare  not  fail  me,  and  this  is  my  word  to 
you.  I  made  a  promise  which  must  be  kept,  and  you 
will  carry  me  to  the  white  man's  camp  before  six  days 
are  over,  alive  or  dead." 

Amadu  looked  eastward  across  the  jungle,  spread 
his  palms  outward,  and  then  bent  his  head. 

"By  fire  and  salt,  and  the  beard  of  the  Prophet  it 
shall  be  so/'  he  said  in  his  own  tongue.  "And  I  would 
it  may  also  be  written  that  I  shall  still  follow  my  master 
should  these  dogs  of  bushmen  meddle  again." 

"Your  master  is  one  of  the  infidel,"  replied  Maxwell. 
"Now  see  that  none  of  these  others  know  what  has 
overtaken  me,  and  call  up  the  hammock  men." 

Maxwell  was  leaning  on  Amadu' s  shoulder  when  the 
hammock  appeared  round  the  bend,  and  none  of  the 
black  men  who  lifted  him  into  it  guessed  how  hard  he 
had  been  hit;  and  the  monotonous  carrying  chanty 
drowned  the  groans  he  could  not  quite  suppress.  The 
heavens  were  opened  as  the  march  began  again,  and 
the  rain  rushed  down.  It  lashed  the  negroes'  oily  skins 
until  they  tingled,  the  trail  became  a  streamlet,  and  the 
mire  in  places  fouled  them  to  the  knee;  but  Amadu, 
having  given  his  promise,  saw  to  the  keeping  of  it  with 
a  terrible  persistence,  and  they  trudged  on  doggedly, 
the  dripping  hammock  always  before  them.  As  one 


260  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

worn-out  bearer  stumbled  another  replaced  him,  and 
the  march  progressed  until  long  after  darkness  fell,  and 
after  a  few  hours'  halt  in  drifting  mist  it  began  again. 

So  the  long  days  and  black  nights  passed.  There 
were  odd  flashes  of  sunlight,  and  once  or  twice  the  moon 
looked  down;  but  between  these  times  the  air  was  filled 
with  the  steam  of  the  saturated  earth  or  with  a  rush  of 
lukewarm  water. 

Late  one  night,  when  the  weary  carriers  lay  camped 
for  a  brief  rest  in  thick  forest,  Maxwell  beckoned 
Amadu.  He  lay  in  the  slung  hammock,  a  lantern  burn- 
ing behind  his  head. 

"You  will  start  in  two  hours.  I  must  reach  the 
camp  before  another  night  comes.  My  time  is  short," 
he  said. 

Amadu,  looking  down  at  him  gravely,  saw  that  the 
words  were  true;  but  he  strove  to  deny  them  in  his 
own  tongue. 

Maxwell  smiled  wearily,  answering  him  in  English 
beyond  his  complete  comprehension. 

"I  have  known  many  men  of  lighter  tint  I  could  part 
from  more  easily,  Amadu.  If  we  reach  the  camp  be- 
fore another  night  comes  you  shall  have  my  big  ele- 
phant gun." 

The  dusky  man  stood  upright. 

"I  carried  an  Emir's  standard.  Will  you  bribe  me 
with  a  gun  to  keep  the  oath  I  swore?" 

Maxwell  must  have  been  in  a  state  of  torment  about 
that  time,  but  he  was  in  his  own  way  a  man  of  extrava- 
gant pride,  and  it  was  perhaps  to  deny  his  weakness 
that  he  spoke  again. 

"Yet  it  is  a  good  gun,"  he  said,  with  a  trace  of  his 
old  dryness.  "Once  you  will  remember  at  over  a 


MAXWELL'S  LAST  MARCH  261 

hundred  paces  it  drove  a  smooth  ball  through  a  rash 
bushman's  head.  You  could  keep  it  in  remembrance — 
couldn't  you?" 

The  alien  stooped  and  laid  one  of  the  thin  hands  on 
his  own  bent  head,  then  dropped  it  suddenly,  for  from 
somewhere  far  off  a  faint  sound  scarcely  more  than 
audible  trembled  across  the  forest.  Maxwell  strove  to 
raise  himself  to  listen,  but  before  he  could  speak  his 
lieutenant  sprang  bolt  upright,  and  his  voice  rang  out. 
It  was  the  sound  of  firing,  and  even  at  that  distance 
something  warned  the  listeners  that  the  quick  beat  of 
it  betokened  modern  rifles. 

The  hammock-bearers,  who  feared  their  new  master 
rather  more  than  the  old,  came  up  at  the  double;  bundles 
were  thrown  hurriedly  on  to  woolly  crowns;  the  tired 
men  swung  into  line;  and  the  little  camp  grew  empty. 

Amadu,  limping  behind  the  hammock,  laughed. 

"If  it  be  the  will  of  Allah,  I  shall  see  that  big  gun 
make  even  a  bigger  hole  in  more  than  one  heathen's 
head!" 


CHAPTER  XXI 

RELIEF 

HILTON  DANE  sat  with  a  fouled  rifle  across  his 
knees  in  an  angle  of  the  stockade  protecting  what 
had  been  the  hospital  camp.  It  was,  however,  a 
hospital  no  longer,  for  some  of  the  sick  had  recovered, 
and  the  rest  had  died.  Dane  considered  that  he  might 
have  saved  more  of  them  had  he  been  more  skilled  in 
medicine,  but  he  had  done  his  best  according  to  his 
abilities;  and  none  of  the  poor  wretches  seemed  to  blame 
him.  Still,  there  were  times  when  he  felt  like  a  mur- 
derer as  some  unfortunate  sufferer's  eyes  turned  in  his 
direction,  beseeching  help,  and  he  could  do  nothing  but 
watch  him  die.  They  died,  for  the  most  part,  as  apa- 
thetically as  they  had  lived,  the  heathen  with  the  un- 
complaining stolidity  which  had  carried  them  through 
much  hardship  and  cruelty,  and  those  who  followed 
the  prophet  testifying  that  it  was  Allah's  will. 

Dane  remembered  it  all  that  morning  as  he  looked 
round  upon  the  remnant  left  him,  for  it  seemed  hardly 
possible  that  any  would  see  another  day.  When  the 
pestilence  relaxed  its  grip  he  had  resumed  the  mining, 
until  the  tribesmen  hemmed  them  in.  Once  the  foe 
tried  to  storm  the  camp,  and  failed  so  signally  that 
beyond  creeping  up  and  firing  into  it,  they  had  not 
repeated  the  attempt  until  the  preceding  night,  when  a 
few  succeeded  in  passing  the  defenses.  These,  however, 
did  not  survive  very  long.  On  the  other  hand,  the 

262 


RELIEF  263 

garrison  could  not  get  out,  and  though  they  had  no 
lack  of  water,  one  cannot  subsist  upon  fluid  alone,  and 
there  was  very  little  else. 

The  men  lay  about  the  stockade  with  their  rusty  guns 
beside  them,  the  negro,  Bad  Dollar,  filing  his  matchet, 
as  he  did  continually.  The  man  Dane  called  Monday, 
however,  crouched  close  beside  him.  A  curious  friend- 
ship had  sprung  up  between  the  two,  and  they  would 
talk  long  together  with  mutual  satisfaction,  though 
neither  of  them  fully  understood  his  companion. 

A  ravine  cut  the  camp  off  from  the  forest  in  the  rear, 
and  beyond  the  front  stockade  the  ground  fell  steeply 
to  the  river.  There  was  forest  across  it,  but  only  the 
tops  of  the  higher  trees  rose  out  of  the  mist  which 
shrouded  all  the  plain  below. 

"You  tink  Cappy  Maxwell  perhallups  come  to-day, 
sah?"  asked  Monday. 

"He  will  certainly  come  some  day/'  Dane  answered 
with  a  cheerfulness  he  found  it  hard  to  assume.  "It 
would  be  opportune  if  he  came  just  now,  especially 
as  he  might  be  too  late  to-morrow.  A  miss  is 
rather  better  than  a  mile  in  the  present  case,  but  you 
let  too  many  of  your  black  friends  get  in  last  night, 
Monday." 

The  dusky  man,  for  he  was  not  a  negro,  looked  up 
at  the  speaker  doubtfully  and  shook  his  head. 

"I  no  savvy  all  them  palaver,  sah,  but  Cappy  Max- 
well too  much  fine  white  man.  All  them  black  boy 
tink  each  morning  they  go  look  him.  Cappy  Maxwell 
say  he  lib  for  heah,  and  them  boy  believe  him." 

Dane  glanced  at  the  dejected  objects,  even  then 
staring  down  expectantly  into  the  drifting  mist,  then 
at  the  tally  of  days  that  would  never  be  wholly  forgotten 


264  THE  LEAGUE  OP  THE  LEOPARD 

which  he  had  scored  on  a  post  of  the  stockade.  A 
deeper  notch  marked  each  seventh,  and  after  many 
calculations  he  had  gashed  a  few  across  to  indicate  the 
probable  date  of  Maxwell's  departure  from  Little 
Mahu.  The  black  men  did  not  understand  the  mean- 
ing of  those  scores  and  regarded  the  making  of  them  as  a 
religious  ceremony,  but  Dane  fancied  that  Maxwell 
might  understand  if  he  reached  the  camp  too  late. 
Then,  perhaps  because  he  was  overwrought,  he  became 
conscious  of  an  extravagant  pride  in  his  friend.  Those 
half-naked  Africans  had  waited,  trusting  in  Maxwell's 
promise  patiently  and  long,  and  trusting  it  implicitly 
still.  This,  it  seemed  to  him,  was  no  small  testimony. 

"I  tink  we  look  Cappy  Maxwell  one  time,  sah," 
Monday  began  again. 

"If  he  is  alive,  you  will,"  Dane  answered  as  sturdily. 
"Stop  those  boys'  chattering.  Something  is  going  on 
down  yonder  now." 

Monday  stood  up  staring  at  the  mist. 

"Them  parrot  scream,  sah,  and  them  monkey  talk. 
I  tink  them  dam  bushmen  lib  for  come  back  again. " 

"Then  don't  let  your  boys  start  shooting  until  they 
crawl  close  in,"  Dane  answered,  with  an  indifference 
assumed  to  reassure  the  rest.  "Some  of  those  fellows 
can't  hit  anything  with  a  gun,  and  you  had  better  keep 
a  few  as  a  standby  in  case  they  come  in  with  a  run. 
Let  them  wait  until  the  bushmen  lib  for  climb  the  stock- 
ade, and  then  split  their  heads  with  the  matchets. 
You  understand  me?" 

Monday  apparently  did  so,  for  he  moved  off  with  a 
grin  which  betokened  nothing  pleasant  for  the  bushmen; 
and  Dane  sat  still  with  his  eyes  fixed  on  the  forest. 
Something  was  evidently  happening,  but  the  mist  was 


RELIEF  265 

thick,  and  he  could  not  see  into  its  dim  recesses. 
His  few  men  were  worn  down  by  hunger  and  contin- 
uous watching,  and  he  feared  that  if  the  foe  pushed  the 
attack  with  vigor  they  would  certainly  get  in.  There 
was  no  doubt  that  the  garrison  would  make  a  grim  last 
stand  if  they  did,  but  that  appeared  at  the  best  a  poor 
consolation,  and  Dane  became  sensible  of  a  coldly 
murderous  indignation  against  the  bushmen. 

There  was  a  crackle  of  undergrowth  far  below,  then 
a  sound  as  of  men  splashing  through  the  river  which 
ran  high  and  swollen;  but  Dane  was  short  of  ammuni- 
tion, and  did  not  consider  it  advisable  to  fire  blindly 
into  the  mist.  He  felt  himself  quivering  with  suspense. 
Staring  down  the  steep  face  of  the  bluff,  he  waited, 
ready  to  drive  a  bullet  through  the  head  of  the  first 
assailant  who  rose  out  of  the  vapor.  Then  the  noise 
ceased  altogether,  and  the  ensuing  silence  became  mad- 
dening. How  long  this  lasted  Dane  could  never  tell, 
but  he  grew  cold  and  hot  by  turns  as  he  waited,  until  a 
sound  that  was  wholly  unexpected  became  faintly 
audible.  It  was  not  the  rustle  made  by  the  passage  of 
a  stealthy  foe,  but  more  resembled  the  approach  of  men 
marching  in  some  order.  While  the  blood  pulsed  within 
him  he  saw  that  the  camp  boys  glanced  from  him  to  the 
vapor  under  the  influence  of  an  overwhelming  excite- 
ment. But  though  the  sound  came  nearer,  the  mist, 
which  was  thicker  than  ever,  still  hid  all  below,  until  a 
negro's  head  rose  out  of  it,  and  Dane  saw  that  he  carried 
a  hammock  pole.  Then  a  wild  shout  went  up,  and 
Monday's  yell  rang  through  all  the  rest: 

"Gappy  Maxwell  lib !" 

There  was  an  end  of  all  discipline.  Weapons  went 
down  clattering,  and  famishing  men,  who  during  many 


266  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

weary  days  had  vainly  scanned  the  forest,  poured  out 
through  the  stockade  gate  and  raced  madly  down  the 
slope  to  welcome  those  who  had  brought  them  the  long 
expected  help.  For  a  moment  Dane  stood  stupidly 
still,  almost  too  dazed  to  realize  what  had  come  about, 
vacantly  wondering  how  Maxwell  had  forced  a  passage 
without  firing  a  shot.  Then  the  contagion  seized  him 
and,  leaping  down  from  the  stockade,  he  followed  the 
rest.  His  perceptions  were  yet  clouded  by  a  bewilder- 
ing sense  of  relief,  but  it  struck  him  that  the  ham- 
mock-bearers came  on  in  an  ominous  silence.  When  he 
reached  them,  Amadu  looked  at  him  curiously,  as  though 
he  would  have  spoken,  but,  brushing  past,  Dane  tore 
the  wet  matting  aside. 

Then  he  stepped  suddenly  backward,  breathless 
and  aghast.  Maxwell  lay  huddled  in  a  limp  heap  upon 
the  drenched  canvas,  almost  unrecognizable.  His  face 
was  distorted  and  shrunken,  his  jacket  reddened  in 
patches,  and  his  lips  were  cracked  and  black.  His  eyes 
had  grown  dim  and  glassy,  and  when  he  spoke  his  very 
voice  seemed  changed. 

"Have  I  altered  so  much  that  you  don't  know  me, 
comrade?" 

"You  have  brought  us  our  lives,  Carsluith,  but 
God  knows  I  would  rather  have  stayed  on  here  forever 
than  to  see  you  come  like  this,"  said  Dane. 

Maxwell  moved  a  little,  and  there  was  the  ghost  of  a 
smile  in  his  half-closed  eyes. 

"I  really  couldn't  help  it.  I  hardly  think  I  shall 
trouble  you  long.  A  bushman  back  in  the  forest  shot 


me." 


"Don't!"  Dane  answered  hoarsely.     "It  can't  be  so 
bad  as  that.     I  won't  believe  it!" 


RELIEF  267 

Maxwell  let  his  hand  fall  into  his  comrade's  palm  as 
though  to  convince  him. 

"I  am  afraid  it  is.  I  have  been  holding  on  to  my 
life  desperately — because  I  wanted  to  see  you  before  I 
went,"  he  said  brokenly. 

The  touch  of  his  clammy  hand  struck  a  cold  chill 
through  Dane,  who,  turning  abruptly,  bade  the  ham- 
mock boys  carry  their  burden  with  all  speed  to  the  tent. 
What  he  saw  there  convinced  him  that  Carsluith 
Maxwell  had  made  his  last  adventurous  march,  and 
that  the  best  to  be  hoped  for  him  was  a  painless  passing 
to  his  rest.  Maxwell  also  knew  it,  and  though  Dane 
could  say  nothing  because  of  the  choking  sensation  in 
his  throat,  he  looked  up  at  him  and  nodded. 

"Hopeless,  isn't  it?  This  case  is  beyond  your  skill," 
he  said  faintly.  "We  have  been  good  comrades,  but 
even  the  best  partnership  can't  last  forever.  Still, 
you  might  do  what  little  you  can,  for  there  are  things 
I  want  to  tell  you." 

Dane  went  out  to  seek  for  his  case  of  drugs,  and  just 
then,  as  if  in  mockery,  a  blaze  of  sunshine  beat  down 
on  clustering  negroes  and  rain-beaten  camp.  Swayed 
by  a  sudden  gust  of  grief  and  passion,  the  man  shook 
his  fist  at  the  river  and  cursed  what  lay  beneath  it.  It 
seemed  to  his  overwrought  fancy  that  the  stain  of  blood 
was  on  the  gold,  the  blood  of  the  staunchest  comrade 
any  man  ever  starved  or  fought  beside.  Though  their 
friendship  had  been  neither  lengthy  nor  demonstrative, 
the  hardships  and  perils  undergone  had  woven  a  bond 
between  them  that  knit  them  as  close  as  brothers. 
Nevertheless,  Dane  had  yet  to  learn  all  that  his  com- 
rade had  done  for  him. 

Maxwell   slept  or  lapsed  into  unconsciousness  all 


268  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

afternoon,  but  he  revived  a  little  by  nightfall,  and 
beckoned  his  comrade  near  him.  The  night  was  black 
and  hot.  Because  Dane  had  given  stringent  orders, 
no  negro's  voice  reached  them,  and  they  seemed  utterly 
alone,  hemmed  in  by  the  darkness  of  Africa.  Dane 
could  hear  only  the  river  moan  below,  and  he  found  it 
necessary  to  cough  huskily,  for  again,  as  he  remembered 
one  other  night  when  they  sat  there  together  filled  with 
bright  hopes  for  the  future,  an  obstruction  gathered  in 
his  throat.  Maxwell  told  him  of  his  journey,  in  a  low, 
strained  voice,  halting  for  breath  at  frequent  intervals, 
and  every  word  burned  itself  into  the  listener's  memory. 
Maxwell  always  put  things  vividly  and  tersely. 

"It  was  a  wonderful  march;  but  I  have  let  you  talk 
too  much,"  said  Dane,  when  he  concluded.  "So  it 
was  by  Lilian's  help  you  fitted  out  the  expedition,  and 
she  rode  all  night  across  the  mountains  to  warn  Chatter- 
ton.  It  was  what  one  might  have  expected.  God 
bless  her!" 

"Amen,"  said  Maxwell,  with  full  solemnity.  "The 
talking  can't  make  much  difference  now — I  shall  have 
a  long  rest  to-morrow.  There  is  still  something  I  must 
say,  and  even  if  I  am  blundering  it  seems  best  to  speak. 
We  are  very  blind  when  we  think  we  see  most  clearly, 
Hilton." 

Dane  looked  at  the  speaker  with  some  bewilderment 
as  he  let  his  head  fall  back  on  the  matting,  and  lay 
still  gasping.  Five  long  minutes  passed  before  he  spoke 
again. 

"Will  you  raise  me  a  little,  Hilton?  My  breath 
comes  short." 

Dane  slipped  one  arm  beneath  his  shoulder  before 
Maxwell  continued. 


RELIEF  269 

"It  is  strange  that  neither  of  us  guessed;  but  all  was 
for  the  best,  maybe.  The  knowledge  might  have  sev- 
ered our  friendship — I  hardly  think  much  more  than 
that  would  part  us  now.  Though  twice  I  came  near 
doing  so,  I  never  told  you  that  I  asked  Miss  Chatter  ton 
to  marry  me." 

It  was  only  by  an  effort  that  Dane  held  his  arm 
motionless  so  that  it  still  supported  the  dying  man.  It 
seemed  the  strangest  of  all  the  strange  happenings  that 
they  two  should  have  braved  so  much  together  for  the 
love  of  the  same  woman. 

Maxwell  saw  his  blank  surprise,  and  smiled  feebly. 

"You  asked  Lilian  Chatterton  to  marry  you?" 
Dane  repeated  dazedly. 

"Very  foolish  of  me,  was  it  not?  But  there  is  no 
reason  for  such  surprise  that  I  should  desire  it;  and  I 
promptly  discovered  my  folly.  I  also  gathered  there 
was  somebody  who  might  please  her  better.  Now  you 
have  the  simple  fact,  but  as  there  is  an  inference  you 
must  listen  still.  How  could  I  have  guessed  the  truth- 
after  what  I  saw  at  the  Hallows  Brig?  It  appeared 
impossible  to  me  that  any  man  who  had  won  Miss 
Chatterton's  approval  could  find  pleasure  in— 

"Stop!"  cried  Dane,  striving  to  hold  his  excitement 
in  check.  "You  were  mistaken,  Carsluith.  It  was 
only  out  of  pity,  and  because  the  imprisonment  of  her 
brother  would  bring  destitution  upon  her,  that  I  met 
that  girl." 

"I  can  take  your  word,"  Maxwell  said  quietly. 
"That  was  the  one  point  which  troubled  me.  Strange, 
isn't  it,  that  on  my  last  night  I  should  talk  in  this 
fashion;  but  when  one's  grasp  on  material  things  grows 
feeble  the  others  assume  their  due  value.  Yes,  I  loved 


270  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

Lilian  Chatterton— as  I  love  her  still — though  it  was 
madness  to  think  that  she,  fresh  and  bright  with  inno- 
cent light-heartedness,  could  stoop  to  mate  with  a 
somber  man  like  me.  But  raise  me  a  little.  I  can't 
see  you  clearly,  Hilton." 

Dane  did  as  he  was  bidden,  and  Maxwell  con- 
tinued: 

"I  want  you  to  remember  that  it  was  my  fault, 
Hilton.  Miss  Chatterton  never  suspected  until  I 
spoke  that  night  we  passed  you  at  Hallows  Brig.  I 
had  a  suspicion  you  admired  her  before  that  time,  but 
it  vanished  completely  then.  You  see  how  each  trivial 
incident  fitted  in.  She  was  very  gentle,  but  I  knew 
her  decision  was  final — and  still  I  did  not  see  the 
truth." 

As  Maxwell  looked  into  his  comrade's  eyes  a  quiver 
ran  through  Dane. 

"I  am  bewildered,  and  it  seems  brutal  to  ask  you 
questions  now,"  he  said  huskily.  "But  you  have 
more  to  tell." 

Maxwell's  eyes  signified  assent,  but  he  paused  to 
gather  breath. 

"It  is  only  because  I  am  dying.  Otherwise,  you 
would  never  have  heard  this  from  me,  but  it  seems  best 
for  both  that  you  should  know.  It  was  naturally  not 
for— my— sake  Miss  Chatterton  made  that  midnight 
journey." 

Maxwell  smiled  wistfully  as  he  let  his  head  sink  back 
again;  and  Dane,  drawing  his  arm  away,  said  noth- 
ing for  a  few  minutes.  It  was  wonderful  news  he  had 
heard,  but  the  price  which  had  been  paid  for  his  safety 
was  unbearably  heavy. 

"You  are  a  very  staunch  friend — and  this  makes  it 


RELIEF  271 

the  harder  for  me  to  lose  you.  If  only  there  was 
anything  a  man  could  do  to  prevent  it!  Carsluith, 
rouse  yourself!  I  can't  lose  you!" 

"It  makes  it  the  easier  for  me  to  go,"  said  Maxwell. 
"If  what  I  hope  for  happens,  you  will  always  be 
kind  to  her,  Hilton.  Just  moisten  my  lips  with  the 
brandy." 

There  was  silence  afterward,  for  Maxwell  lay  breath- 
ing unevenly  with  his  eyes  closed,  and  Dane  was  swayed 
in  turn  by  satisfaction  and  a  crushing  sense  of  loss. 
He  suffered  from  remorse  as  well.  Maxwell  dying  had 
revealed  a  side  of  his  nature  his  comrade  now  knew  he 
should  have  seen  manifested  in  his  actions  if  not  in  his 
words. 

It  was  the  sufferer  who  first  spoke  again. 

"  It  was  Rideau  who  brought  misfortune  upon  us  from 
the  beginning,  and  to  judge  by  the  rifle  the  bushman 
left,  he  was  the  instigator  of  the  last  attack." 

"May  worse  befall  me  if  I  do  not  repay  him  fully 
before  I  leave  Africa!"  Dane  said,  solemnly. 

Maxwell  appeared  to  smile  as  he  had  always  done 
when  his  partner  was  unusually  emphatic. 

"He  had  excuses,  Hilton,  and  I  am  past  all  desire  for 
vengeance  now.  For  one  thing  he  recognized  the 
senorita's  gift  to  you.  Still,  for  the  sake  of  Miss  Castro 
— and  she  promised  to  help  me — I  would  advise  you 
not  to  let  him  go  free  to  continue  his  persecution  of 
Dom  Pedro.  We  both  owe  her  a  good  deal,  and  I 
would  like  you,  if  possible,  to  tell  her  so.  You  might 
add  my  respectful  remembrance,  too.  There  is  yet 
another  point.  Whatever  my  share  of  this  gold  may 
be,  I  bequeath  it  to  you,  with  my  blessing,  on  condition 
that  you  send  the  boys  back  happy,  with  as  much  cloth 


272  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

as  they  can  carry,  to  wherever  they  came  from.  The 
poor  devils  served  us  faithfully.  When  I  have  rested,  I 
would  like  to  see  Amadu.  Then  I  think  my  work  will 
be  finished,  and  I  can  only  await  the  summons  to  answer 
for  what  I  have  failed  in.  It  will  come  before  sunrise, 
Hilton." 

An  hour  passed  slowly  while  Dane  listened  to  the 
ticking  of  his  watch;  then  Maxwell  opened  his  eyes 
again,  and  Dane  beckoned  to  Amadu,  who  stood  waiting 
without.  He  came  in,  still  wearing  the  straight  blade 
which  had  struck  the  murderer  down,  and  stood  like  a 
bronze  statue  beside  his  master. 

"I  want  to  thank  you  for  faithful  service,  Amadu," 
Maxwell  said  weakly.  "You  shall  have  the  gun — you 
have  won  it — and  whatever  else  you  wish  besides.  We 
made  two  great  journeys  together,  but  I  cannot  take 
you  with  me  now." 

The  big  man  bent  until  Maxwell's  thin  hand  rested 
on  his  head.  What  they  said  Dane  failed  to  compre- 
hend, but  Amadu  seemed  to  do  him  homage,  and  when 
he  rose,  he  moved  slowly,  with  raised  palms  and  head 
bent,  backward  out  of  the  tent.  Then  as  Maxwell's 
eyes  closed  he  crouched  in  the  entrance,  with  the  steel, 
which  caught  the  lamplight,  lying  naked  across  his 
knee. 

"Often  I  lib  for  watch  them  white  man  so,"  he  said 
softly.  "No  djinn  or  devil  go  near  him  now." 

Maxwell  said  little  further.  He  slept  or  lay  un- 
conscious for  some  time,  and  then  just  smiled  for  a 
moment  as  his  eyes  rested  on  the  grim  sentinel  with  the 
bronze  limbs  and  raw  blue  draperies,  guarding  the  en- 
trance. When  he  next  roused  himself  he  laid  his 
chilly  hand  on  one  of  Dane's,  and  showed  a  faint  sign 


RELIEF  273 

of  pleasure  when  his  comrade's  fingers  closed  upon  it. 
Once  again  he  murmured,  but  it  was  rather  by  the 
movements  of  his  lips  than  by  audible  sound  that  Dane 
gathered  the  message: 

"You  will  tell  her  I  kept  my  promise." 
That  was  his  last  effort,  for  when  the  night  was  almost 
gone  the  fingers  which  lay  limp  in  Dane's  grew  rigid. 
Then  Dane  stood  up  stiffly,  desolate,  knowing  that  the 
spirit  of  Carsluith  Maxwell  had  passed  to  find  such  rest 
as  may  be  reserved  for  the  souls  of  loyal  gentlemen. 
But  the  dust  claims  that  which  sprang  from  it  quickly 
in  that  land,  and  the  comrade  he  left  to  mourn  over  him 
found  his  own  endurance  heavily  taxed  before  the 
aliens  who  had  helped  him  at  his  task  took  up  their 
stations  with  weapons  girt  about  them,  a  barbaric 
guard  of  honor,  at  the  dead  man's  head  and  feet.  It 
was  Amadu  who  strapped  the  big  revolver  by  its  lanyard 
to  his  master's  wrist,  when,  scattering  a  few  of  the  heavy- 
scented  lily  blossoms,  Dane  folded  the  tired  hands. 
Then  they  kept  their  vigil  together,  and  it  did  not  seem 
incongruous  that  dusky  cattle  thief  and  soldier  of 
fortune  should  watch  beside  the  English  adventurer. 
Humanity  is  greater  than  color  and  creed,  and  it  was 
as  those  who  had  suffered  together  they  did  their  dead 
due  honor. 

The  rain  had  ceased  and  a  dazzling  sunrise  flamed 
across  the  forest  when  Dane  stooped  for  a  last  glance 
at  Carsluith  Maxwell.  The  pain  had  faded  from  his 
face,  and  he  lay  in  impressive  serenity  as  one  who 
rested  with  his  work  well  done.  Then  the  lonely  sur- 
vivor went  out  into  the  brightness  of  the  morning  with 
a  grief  that  found  no  expression  mingled  in  his  heart 
with  the  lust  of  vengeance. 


CHAPTER  XXII 

ON   TO   THE   COAST 

NATURE,  un trammeled  by  human  inventions,  takes 
her  own  way  swiftly  in  the  fever  land,  and  the  sun 
had  hardly  cleared  the  cotton  woods  when  Dane  found 
himself  mechanically  following  a  tattered  hammock 
borne  high  on  the  heads  of  dusky  men.  Though  there 
was  somber  cloud  above,  dazzling  brightness  beat 
into  their  set  faces,  and  flashed  on  glistening  blade 
and  long  gun-barrel  borne  by  those  who  marched 
behind.  There  was  no  word  spoken.  Only  the  patter 
of  naked  feet  and  the  jingle  of  steel  broke  through 
the  impressive  hush,  for  that  morning  every  leaf  hung 
limp  and  still.  It  was  with  all  solemnity  that 
Carsluith  Maxwell  set  out  on  his  last  journey. 

Dane  halted  by  the  eastern  gate  of  the  stockade, 
watching  the  black  men  swing  past  him  file  by  file; 
they  were  as  strange  a  company  as  ever  followed  a 
British  gentleman  to  his  grave — Moslem  bandit,  woolly 
haired  bush  thief,  stalwart,  heathen  Kroo,  brown  des- 
peradoes who  had  fought  the  French  under  the  banner 
of  the  great  Sultan,  and  two-legged  beasts  of  burden 
from  the  '  steaming  swamps.  Still,  unstable  and 
unreasoning,  with  the  light-heartedness  of  a  child 
and  the  cruelty  of  a  devil,  as  many  were,  it  gave  the 
watcher  a  mournful  pleasure  to  see  that  one  and 
all  had  come  to  pay  respect  to  their  dead  leader; 

274 


ON  TO  THE  COAST  275 

and  he  showed  his  wonder  when  Amadu  cried  aloud, 
and  the  glinting  flintlocks  swung  together,  with 
muzzles  to  the  rear.  Dane  guessed  that  the  dusky 
adventurer  had  not  learned  to  reverse  arms  in  the  ser- 
vice of  any  hinterland  Emir. 

He  followed,  seeing  as  one  walking  in  a  dream,  the 
sinuous  line  of  sable  limbs  and  white  and  blue  draperies 
wind  on  through  deepening  shadow.  When  Amadu 
cried  again,  the  moving  figures  fell  apart  on  either  hand, 
and  Dane  was  left  with  their  leader  and  the  bearers 
beside  a  shallow  trench,  on  which  one  shaft  of  sunlight 
fell.  He  cast  his  ragged  hat  down  on  the  sand,  and  in 
a  voice  which  seemed  to  belong  to  some  other  person 
recited  such  fragmentary  portions  of  the  last  office  as 
he  could  remember.  No  one  moved  among  all  the 
silent  company,  but  there  was  an  inarticulate  murmur 
when  at  last  the  solemn  words  broke  off. 

Dane  remembered  nothing  further  beyond  the  dull 
thud  of  shovels;  his  eyesight  seemed  to  fail  him,  until 
presently  he  found  himself  moving  dejectedly  back  to 
camp  behind  the  straggling  company.  He  must  have 
slept  when  he  reached  his  tent,  for  the  sun  was  low  when 
Monday  and  Amadu  stood  outside  the  entrance, 
calling  him.  When  he  rose  wearily,  Amadu  pointed  to 
the  groups  of  men  waiting  without. 

"Them  boy  lib  for  savvy  what  you  do  now,  sah," 
he  said  in  the  coast  palaver. 

"I  can't  tell  them  just  yet,"  Dane  answered.  "What 
do  they  wish  themselves  ?" 

It  was  a  few  moments  before  his  meaning  dawned 
upon  Amadu,  for  the  white  man  felt  too  dazed  to  frame 
his  thoughts  in  other  than  everyday  English. 

"Them    carrier    bushmen    lib    for    beach    and    go 


276     THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

back  to  his  own  country  one  time,"  said  Amadu. 
"Say  this  country  belong  to  the  Ju-ju." 

No  man  could  have  blamed  the  carriers.  They  had 
in  their  own  fashion  done  their  utmost,  and  Dane  almost 
shared  their  opinion  about  the  locality;  but  he  pointed 
to  other  men  of  lighter  color  and  soldierly  aspect. 

"Do  these  want  to  lib  for  their  own  country  one  time, 
too  ?"  he  asked. 

Amadu  laughed  mirthlessly,  and  fingering  the  hilt 
of  the  straight  blade  glanced  at  Monday,  whose  face 
was  very  grim,  and  the  little  negro,  Bad  Dollar, 
crouching  close  by  with  a  polished  matchet  in  his 
hand. 

"They  say  they  follow  you  if  you  be  fit  to  hunt 
them  Leopard  or  go  chop  them  dam  Rideau." 

"They  shall  have  an  answer  to-morrow,"  said  Dane. 
"Monday,  see  there  is  order  in  the  camp.  Tell  them 
no  man  is  fit  to  reach  the  coast  himself,  and  must  wait 
until  I  go  with  him.  There  is  something  I  want  to  ask 
you,  Amadu.  What  you  did  was  well  done,  but  who 
taught  you  how,  when  a  white  soldier  is  buried,  men 
carry  the  gun.  Your  master  has  gone,  and  I  am  Cappy 


now." 


As  it  were  mechanically,  the  big  dusky  alien  closed 
his  heels  together,  while  his  hand  went  up  to  his  ragged 
turban  and  fell  again  with  a  rigid  precision. 

"I  had  suspected  it  already,"  said  Dane,  half-aloud. 
"Sit  down  and  tell  me  about  it.  Monday,  see  no  boy 
leaves  the  camp." 

The  others  disappeared,  and  Dane  was  glad  when  the 
man  obeyed  him.  He  was  respectful  and  intelligent, 
and  Dane  felt  the  need  of  company.  It  seemed  that 
the  same  feeling  troubled  Amadu. 


ON  TO  THE  COAST  277 

"The  white  man  has  guessed,"  he  said,  in  a  strangely 
mixed  idiom.  "I  carried  an  Emir's  standard  in  the 
North,  in  the  dry  country  where  men  fear  Allah,  and 
there  is  corn  and  tobacco.  My  master  mocked  at  the 
Sultan,  refusing  his  tribute,  and  the  Sultan's  horsemen 
came  upon  us  while  we  slept.  They  wore  fine  iron 
chain  and  carried  the  guns  which  come  south  through 
the  desert  from  where  no  man  knows,  but  for  an  hour  a 
handful  of  us  held  the  gate  with  the  sword.  Then 
when  other  gates  went  down  and  the  huts  burned  behind 
us,  some  one  brought  my  master's  horse,  and  he  rode 
out  upon  them.  There  were  less  than  a  score  of  us 
living  then,  but  we  carried  the  standard  almost  through 
their  midst,  and  when  my  master  went  down,  I  and  three 
others  stood  over  him.  The  Sultan  had  fewer  men  and 
horses  when  at  last  a  gun-butt  struck  me  down." 

Amadu  flung  his  head  up  as  he  halted,  and  his  eyes 
glittered  when  they  fastened  on  the  listener's  face. 

"The  Sultan  was  served  by  men,  and  not  by  such 
as  the  heathen  who  follow  the  little  white  man,"  he 
said. 

Dane  could  draw  the  intended  inference,  and  when  he 
nodded  Amadu  appeared  satisfied. 

"When  I  lay  in  the  grass  next  morning  only  the  wall 
remained  of  the  town,"  continued  the  dusky  soldier  of 
fortune.  "  There  were  sufficient  heads  hung  about  it  al- 
ready, so  I  fled  south  to  serve  the  White  Queen,  as  others 
of  my  people  had  done.  We  would  follow  the  strongest, 
and  knew  how  the  great  Emir  of  the  West  had  mocked 
the  white  men  who  do  not  speak  your  tongue  So  I 
came  south  and  learned  the  drill,  and  wondered  if  the 
English  were  mad  when  they  sent  a  lad  with  the  face 
of  a  woman  to  lead  us.  There  were  twenty  of  us,  all 


278  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

broken  men  who  had  lived  by  the  sword,  and  some 
laughed  when  for  the  first  time  our  officer  spoke  to  us. 
Others  answered  him  openly,  and,  perhaps  not  under- 
standing all,  he  said  no  word  to  them;  but  when  one 
night  four  men  returned  carrying  plunder  they  had 
stolen  from  the  heathen,  and,  mocking  at  his  orders, 
threatened  him,  he  shot  their  leader.  He  stood  alone 
before  us,  very  slight  and  slender,  with  the  smoke  of 
the  pistol  curling  about  him,  and  any  one  of  those  who 
stood  by  could  have  crushed  him  with  their  hand;  but 
we  went  back  to  our  huts  when  he  told  us,  and  hence- 
forward obeyed  him. 

"It  happened  that  when  time  had  passed,  and  we 
knew  our  officer,  as  he  knew  us,  we  went  up  with  him  to 
chastise  certain  thieves,  and  came  upon  a  stockade 
across  the  path,  with  many  men  who  carried  guns 
behind  it.  The  sun  hung  low  over  the  forest,  and  we 
feared  treachery  when  one  held  out  a  palm  branch;  but 
refusing  to  heed  us,  our  officer  went  forward  alone  to 
speak  with  the  heathen.  He  stood  as  he  used  to  stand, 
with  one  hand  on  his  side,  so,  holding  in  the  other  only 
a  little  cane,  the  stockade  ten  paces  from  him,  and  we 
waiting,  as  he  had  bidden  us,  it  may  be  a  hundred, 
behind  him.  A  wise  man  would  not  have  done  so,  but 
the  one  who  led  us  feared  nothing.  He  spoke,  and  his 
voice  came  clear  through  the  shadow  as  he  stood  twisting 
his  cane  a  little,  one  lonely  white  man  demanding  sub- 
mission from  the  heathen.  Then  a  gun  flashed,  and 
he  fell  forward  on  his  face,  and  with  a  cry  for  vengeance 
we  swept  the  stockade.  The  heathen  did  not  wait  for 
the  steel,  and  most  of  them  escaped,  for  darkness  fell 
suddenly  upon  the  forest. 

"We  knew  they  would  fly  to  the  stronghold  of  a  thief 


ON  TO  THE  COAST  279 

in  the  country  of  the  white  men  who  speak  a  different 
tongue,  where,  when  certain  thieves  had  done  so,  our 
leader  might  not  follow;  but  when  we  had  buried  him 
we  made  a  plan,  and  swore  to  send  many  of  the  bushmen 
after  him.  The  night  was  far  spent  when  we  crept 
softly  about  the  stockade  of  that  heathen  village,  but 
men  drunk  with  palm  wine  made  merry  within,  doubt- 
less boasting  how  they  had  slain  our  leader.  It  was  one 
who  had  served  the  Sultan,  climbing  the  stockade,  drove 
his  bayonet  through  the  watcher  at  the  gate,  and  no  man 
saw  us  slip  from  hut  to  hut  until  we  gathered  softly 
about  the  headman's  house,  where  in  honor  of  the 
strangers  who  had  killed  a  white  man  there  was  feasting. 

"Three  we  could  count  on  held  the  door,  the  rest 
went  in,  and  there  remained  no  one  living  when  they 
came  out  again.  Then  we  burned  the  village,  and  I 
went  back  to  the  outpost  of  the  next  white  Captain  and 
told  him  what  we  had  done.  He  had  eyes  like  the 
Captain  Maxwell,  and  listened  very  quietly,  tapping 
with  his  fingers  on  the  table — so — but  another  white 
man  whom  I  did  not  know,  smote  it,  calling  upon  Allah 
in  the  speech  of  the  English. 

"Then  the  Captain  looked  hard  at  me,  asking,  'You 
had  no  order?7 

"'No.  He  was  our  master,  and  those  bush  thieves 
killed  him  treacherously/  I  said  boldly,  and  one  white 
man  nodded  to  the  other. 

"'You  were  wise  to  speak  the  truth  in  this,'  said  the 
Captain.  'Your  master  would  never  have  given  that 
order;  but  there  are  men  who  will  not  believe  the  rest 
of  your  tale.' 

"'By  salt  and  by  fire,'  I  was  answering,  when  he 
lifted  his  hand. 


280  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

"'I  said  there  are  men  who  will  doubt  you,  and  say 
you  shot  your  leader.  Even  if  that  is  not  so,  you  have 
killed  many  of  our  good  friends'  people.'  When  he 
said  this  the  listening  white  man  laughed  a  little. 
'  Their  nation  will  demand  restitution,  and  it  is  possible 
the  Commissioner  will  hang  you  for  what  you  did— 
which  would  not  please  me,  for  you  are  a  good  soldier, 
Amadu.  Now  you  must  wait  in  prison  until  we  hear 
from  him.7 

"Again  the  white  man  smiled,  and  I  could  not  read 
all  that  was  in  the  Captain's  face  as  he  looked  at  me, 
but  his  friend  spoke,  in  the  speech  of  the  English,  saying 
that  if  he  did  something  he  would  be  condemned.  So 
I  was  laid  in  prison,  and  stayed  there  several  days, 
fearing  greatly  that  I,  who  had  carried  the  Emir's 
standard,  should  hang  like  a  common  bushman,  until 
one  night  the  comrade  who  brought  me  rations  set 
down  a  treble  quantity. 

"'Am  I  to  hang,  a  fat  man,  to  please  the  white  men 
who  speak  differently?'  I  asked  him,  but  he  answered 
nothing. 

"It  was  near  midnight  when  I  heard  the  silver 
whistle,  and  a  sound  of  running  feet,  after  some  one 
called  the  guard.  Now  I  did  not  wish  to  hang,  and 
Allah  gave  me  understanding.  The  roof  was  of 
whitened  iron,  but  the  door  was  not  strong,  and  they 
had  left  me  my  rifle,  which  was  not  usual.  The  door 
went  down  at  the  second  blow,  and  no  man  saw  me  as 
I  fled  for  the  bush,  taking  the  rifle  and  three  days'  food 
with  me.  Still,  I  knew  it  would  not  be  well  for  me 
to  remain  in  the  country  of  the  English,  and  when  no 
man  would  hire  me,  I  took  service  with  my  last  master. 
Two  I  had  were  killed  before  him,  but  neither  was  his 


ON  TO  THE  COAST  281 

equal,  and  I  shall  not  find  such  another  in  all  Africa — 
though  my  service  is  not  completed  yet." 

Again  there  was  a  mutual  understanding  between  the 
pair,  and  when  Dane  nodded  Amadu  went  out  softly. 
The  story  had  interested  and  also  encouraged  him,  for 
he  knew  he  would  not  be  left  without  a  helper  in  what 
he  had  still  to  do.  Now  that  the  numbness  which 
followed  the  blow  had  begun  to  pass,  there  was  sufficient 
to  occupy  his  attention,  and  Dane  never  closed  his  eyes 
that  night.  The  gold  won  would  suffice  to  cover 
the  cost  of  the  two  expeditions,  and  leave  a  balance 
which  would  enable  him  to  launch  his  invention.  Dane 
feared  that,  situated  where  the  mine  was,  no  company 
could  be  induced  to  handle  it.  It  appeared  certain 
that  the  climate,  the  sicknesses,  and  the  hostility  of 
the  natives  would  between  them  prevent  any  private 
adventurers  from  working  it  successfully.  Nothing 
could  be  done  for  some  months  at  least,  until  the  rains 
had  ceased;  and  before  morning  the  one  white  man  who 
knew  the  river's  secret  had  decided  to  keep  it  and  send 
no  more  of  his  countrymen  to  their  deaths  in  the 
Leopards'  country.  At  the  best,  the  mine  lay  in  no- 
man's-land,  and  he  had  not  even  a  black  ruler's 
doubtful  concession  for  reckless  speculators  to  operate 
upon. 

What  Dane  had  seen  and  suffered  had  humbled  his 
pride.  Maxwell's  last  news  still  thrilled  him,  and  he 
determined  he  would  do  what  might  better  have  been 
done  earlier — ask  the  woman  for  whose  sake  he  had 
pressed  on  into  that  forest  to  wait  until  he  had  made 
further  progress  in  his  legitimate  profession.  So  far, 
the  way  was  clear,  but  even  before  his  comrade  left  him 
a  desire  for  vengeance  had  been  growing  stronger  within 


282  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

the  survivor,  and  now  a  sullen  fury  filled  the  lonely  man, 
who  had  pledged  himself  to  demand  a  full  account  for 
any  breach  of  trust,  and  had  not  hitherto  failed  his 
promise. 

At  sunrise,  leaving  his  tent  unrefreshed,  he  called  the 
men  together  and  addressed  them  first  collectively. 

"I  will  take  you  all  back  to  the  coast,  and  you  will 
receive  more  than  you  bargained  for  when  you  get 
there,"  he  said,  rendering  it,  however,  into  the  seaboard 
tongue.  "Still,  as  the  bushmen  may  try  to  stop  us 
on  the  way,  you  will  not  start  until  you  are  rested,  and 
I  think  you  ready.  We  may  not  go  quite  the  shortest 
way,  but  no  boy  shall  suffer  for  it  who  serves  me 
well." 

There  was  an  approving  shout  when  the  listeners 
grasped  his  meaning,  but  Dane  called  Amadu  and 
Monday  aside. 

"Before  or  after  I  take  these  boys  to  the  coast,  I 
have  an  account  to  settle  with  Rideau.  You  will  help 
me?"  he  said;  and  when  he  had  made  his  purpose 
plainer,  a  dozen  of  his  special  bodyguard  came  forward, 
protesting  their  willingness  to  follow. 

They  set  to  work  at  once,  and  there  was  much  to  be 
done.  Arms  required  to  be  stripped  and  oiled,  loads 
packed  for  transport,  and  Dane  drilled  his  men  an  hour 
or  two  each  day.  A  number  of  days  passed  before  all 
was  ready,  and  then  the  combined  forces  looked  fit  for 
whatever  they  might  have  to  do;  their  leader  recognized 
that  the  work  might  be  arduous. 

It  was  early  in  the  morning,  and  all  waited  for  the 
word  to  march,  when  Dane  stood  bareheaded  beside 
a  little  cross  on  the  bluff  beyond  the  camp.  For  a 
few  moments  his  eyes  grew  misty  as  he  glanced  down 


ON  TO  THE  COAST  283 

at  the  date  and  name  he  had  painfully  hacked  upon  it. 
He  felt  that  he  would  never  meet  the  equal  of  the  man 
who  slept  beneath. 

"  Good-by,  comrade.  You  will  be  long  remembered/1 
he  murmured  thickly;  then  he  solemnly  recorded  a  vow 
that  while  Rideau  went  free  and  unpunished  his  own 
affairs  would  wait.  Dane  owed  the  dead  man  a  duty, 
and  he  had  taken  upon  himself  a  pledge  which  he 
meant  to  discharge  thoroughly. 

It  was  with  as  little  parade  of  weapons  as  possible 
that  the  expedition  headed  for  the  coast,  for  the  men 
had  their  orders  and  Amadu  saw  they  were  carried  out. 
Those  who  carried  matchets  wore  them  hidden  under 
their  cotton  robes,  while  at  times  the  rank  and  file  were 
allowed  to  straggle  unchecked,  with  small  semblance  of 
discipline,  in  a  drawn-out  line.  The  discipline,  however, 
was  there,  and  disaster  would  have  overtaken  any 
bushmen  who  attempted  to  profit  by  the  apparent  lack 
of  it.  Dane  did  not  order  defenses  of  any  kind  to  be 
raised  at  night,  and  generally  had  his  tent  pitched 
apart  from  the  main  camp;  so  that  when  they  had  made 
wide  detours  through  dense  forest  and  reeking  swamp, 
some  of  the  black  men  commenced  to  murmur  as  well 
as  wonder  at  his  recklessness.  Amadu,  Monday,  and 
the  negro,  Bad  Dollar,  with  whom  he  held  long  confer- 
ences, realized,  however,  that  their  leader  was  by  no 
means  inconsistent,  even  if  they  did  not  know  that  he 
was  to  all  intents  and  purposes  the  victim  of  a 
monomania. 

When  it  was  too  late  forever  to  tell  him  so,  he  realized 
what  his  fallen  comrade  had  been  to  him;  and  remember- 
ing how  Maxwell  reached  the  river  camp,  it  was  with 
difficulty  that  he  refrained  from  breaking  out  into  fits 


284  THE  LEAGUE  OP  THE  LEOPARD 

of  baresark  rage  at  the  thought  of  their  third  partner's 
treachery.  The  knowledge  that  it  was  necessary  to 
pit  an  intelligence  unhampered  by  senseless  fury  against 
the  enemy's  cunning  alone  restrained  him;  for  he  felt 
that  Rideau,  who  had  probably  heard  by  this  time  of  his 
relief,  even  if  he  did  not  know  it  earlier,  would  strike 
again  to  ensure  his  own  personal  safety.  He  had  no 
lack  of  opportunity,  but,  either  by  accident  or  by 
judgment,  for  long  refused  to  fall  into  the  trap,  however 
temptingly  Dane  baited  it. 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

AN  EYE  FOR  AN  EYE 

'"PHE  expedition  wandered  southward  leisurely,  and 
1  Dane  grew  more  savagely  sullen  as  they  passed 
dripping  forest  and  foul  morass  in  safety,  until  at  last 
he  ordered  his  tent  to  be  pitched  one  sunset,  fully  a 
hundred  yards  from  the  camp.  The  light  was  failing 
when  he  stood  outside  it  looking  about  him  with  a  curi- 
ous suggestion  of  anticipation  in  his  face.  They  had 
reached  the  southern  fringe  of  the  Leopards'  country, 
and  another  week's  march  should  place  them  in  touch 
with  French  officials.  The  forest  was  comparatively 
open,  the  cotton  woods  growing  well  apart;  and  gazing 
between  the  long  rows  of  towering  trunks  streaked  by 
blue  wood  smoke,  Dane  could  catch  the  shimmer  of  a 
sluggish  creek.  It  was  deep  and  miry,  and  haunted, 
as  he  had  seen,  by  huge  saurians,  but  a  little  produce 
evidently  came  down  that  way,  for  the  bush  path  on 
either  side  was  connected  by  a  native  ferry. 

As  he  made  a  last  survey  the  light  died  out;  and  his 
lamp  was  lighted  when  Amadu,  Monday,  and  Bad 
Dollar  came  softly  into  the  tent.  Dane  stood  upright, 
but  the  rest  crouched  low  among  the  cases,  that  they 
might  not  reveal  their  presence  on  the  illuminated 
canvas.  Monday  growled  a  protest  as  he  noticed  how 
his  master's  figure  was  projected  against  it  by  the  light; 
but  his  comments  fell  unheeded,  for  there  was  a 
definite  purpose  behind  the  white  man's  imprudence. 

285 


286  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

"Again  I  found  the  footsteps,"  Amadu  reported, 
using  a  mixture  of  several  tongues,  as  well  as  broken 
English.  "The  men  who  made  them  were  tired,  and 
have  doubtless  followed  us  far.  They  will  surely  be 
satisfied  when  they  see  us  resting  to-night." 

Monday  grinned  wickedly;  Bad  Dollar  flung  back 
his  woolly  head  and  broke  into  a  silent  laugh;  and  Dane 
felt  a  thrill  of  satisfaction  as  he  glanced  at  the  speaker. 
The  four  formed  a  curiously  assorted  company;  but 
one  purpose  dominated  each  of  them  equally,  and  the 
leader  was  contented  with  his  assistants. 

"One  wore  boots  and  trod  in  the  soft  places  as  no 
black  man  would,"  said  Amadu,  reading  the  unspoken 
question  in  the  white  man's  eyes.  "Another  wore 
sandals,  and  went  cunningly,  as  did  the  rest,  walking 
as  we  do  upon  our  naked  feet.  Still,  they  left  this 
behind  them  among  the  thorns." 

He  held  out  what  Dane  was  not  surprised  to  see,  a 
small  tuft  of  leopard's  fur,  and  laughed  harshly. 

"Ho,  ho!  We  shall  try  whether  they  are  devils  with 
lead  and  steel!" 

"The  ferry  canoe?"  asked  Dane  briefly;  and  Amadu 
nodded. 

"I  go  to  see  to  it,  and  afterward  it  will  need  good 
witchcraft  to  find  it.  If  any  one  would  go  south  in  a 
hurry  he  must  swim  to-night." 

"There  are  crocodiles  in  that  stream,"  smiled  Dane. 
"You  will  take  men  you  can  trust  and  hide  them  where 
the  path  winds  down  to  the  water,  Amadu.  Monday, 
you  will  see  that  until  I  call,  no  boy  leaves  the  camp,  but 
let  them  lie  down  with  their  matchets  beside  them. 
Bad  Dollar  will  wait  with  me;  and  I  will  borrow  Cappy 
Maxwell's  gun  to-night,  Amadu." 


AN  EYE  FOR  AN  EYE  287 

Sitting  low  among  the  cases  now,  Dane  made  careful 
preparations  for  his  own  share  in  the  approaching 
tragedy.  That  it  would  prove  one  he  felt  certain. 
He  cleaned  Maxwell's  gun  with  a  loving  care, 
polishing  the  inside  of  the  barrel  until  it  glistened, 
and  touching  each  part  of  the  action  with  oil.  The 
weapon  was  a  heavy,  single  eight-bore,  with  a  rubber 
pad  on  the  heel;  part  of  this  Dane  cut  away,  leaving 
the  steel  bare,  because  he  knew  that  at  close  quarters 
the  butt  of  a  heavy  gun  may  prove  as  deadly  as  the 
muzzle.  It  was  with  a  curious  stirring  of  recollections 
that  he  saw  the  dead  man's  initials  cut  into  the  elevated 
rib,  and  because  of  them  his  face  was  the  sterner  as  he 
laid  down  the  weapon.  At  short  range  in  the  darkness 
it  was  likely  to  prove  more  formidable  than  any  rifle, 
and — for  Dane  was  wholly  under  the  influence  of  the 
monomania — his  own  safety  counted  for  little  if  he 
could  use  it  with  due  effect. 

Presently  he  reloaded  half  a  dozen  cartridges  with 
heavy  B  pellets,  crimping  the  wads  down  almost 
affectionately,  and  thrust  one  into  the  chamber  and  the 
rest  into  his  pocket.  Never  were  cartridges  filled  with 
greater  care.  Then  he  laid  two  of  the  colored  lights 
Maxwell  had  brought  beside  the  tent  door,  made  sure 
he  could  find  them  by  feeling  alone,  and  placed  a  tin 
match-box  in  one  pocket  where  it  could  be  most  quickly 
grasped. 

At  last  all  was  ready,  and  Dane  sat  perched  high  on  a 
deal  case  between  the  lamp  and  the  canvas  for  a  while. 
Any  one  in  the  forest  could,  of  course,  see  him  clearly; 
but  though  Dane  expected  his  foes  would  strike  that 
night  he  did  not  fear  a  long-range  shot.  Rideau,  he 
knew,  must  have  recognized  that  his  late  associate 


288  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

could  lay  a  formidable  complaint  before  the  authorities, 
who,  regarding  his  inland  journeys  with  suspicion,  would 
be  glad  to  fasten  any  charge  upon  him,  and  perhaps 
equally  glad  of  an  excuse  to  send  an  expedition  up  into 
the  Leopards'  country. 

After  lying  for  a  time  on  the  matting  at  one  end  of  the 
tent,  he  rose  and  turned  the  lamp  out;  the  watching  then 
was  not  cheerful,  and  it  was  comforting  to  feel  the  weight 
of  the  big  gun  upon  his  knee.  The  last  hum  of  voices 
had  died  away  in  camp,  the  fires  burned  low,  and  except 
for  an  occasional  floundering  beside  the  creek,  the  bush 
was  strangely  silent.  The  darkness  was  now  intense. 
The  wild  animals  would  await  moonrise  to  begin  their 
hunting;  what  Dane  expected  would  happen  before  then. 
He  could  not  see  Bad  Dollar,  who  crouched  somewhere 
near  the  entrance  of  the  tent,  though  he  heard  his  file 
grate  softly  upon  a  matchet,  and  could  picture  him  run- 
ning a  black  thumb  along  the  keen-edged  blade  at 
every  cessation. 

Confused  memories  crowded  upon  Dane,  with  Maxwell 
stalking  through  them  all.  He  saw  him  again,  alert, 
indomitable,  resourceful,  quelling  the  mutinous,  cheering 
the  dejected,  and  tending  the  sick.  He  saw  him  gasping 
his  life  away  in  that  very  tent,  with,  regardless  of  his  own 
agony,  words  which  would  brighten  all  his  partner's 
future  upon  his  lips;  and  again  a  gust  of  passion  stirred 
the  lonely  man  in  every  fiber.  It  passed,  and — for  Dane 
was  not  for  the  time  being  wholly  sane — left  behind  it  a 
coldly  murderous  resolution. 

Suddenly  there  was  a  touch  upon  his  leg.  Without  a 
sound  Bad  Dollar  had  wriggled  toward  him.  Turning 
as  silently  as  he  could,  Dane  crawled  to  the  entrance, 
where  he  crouched  with  his  right  heel  beneath  him,  be- 


AN  EYE  FOR  AN  EYE  289 

hind  the  drawn-back  sheeting  which  hung  slackly.  It 
was  so  dark  that  he  could  scarcely  distinguish  the  nearest 
cottonwood;  but  though  his  ears  failed  to  localize  any 
definite  sound  he  became  conscious  of  some  danger  ap- 
proaching. Under  different  circumstances  Dane  would 
have  felt  distinctly  uneasy,  knowing,  as  he  did,  that  the 
thick  gloom  sheltered  those  who  sought  his  life.  Then, 
however,  he  feared  only  that  he  had  not  accurately  loaded 
the  cartridge,  or  that  the  damp  had  spoiled  the  fulminat- 
ing mixture  inside  its  cap;  and  his  fingers  were  woodenly 
steady  as  they  tightened  on  the  gun. 

He  felt  with  one  hand  for  the  socket  of  the  signal  light 
and  found  it,  stretched  out  a  foot  and  pressed  it  against 
Bad  Dollar  when  he  touched  him  again  warningly;  and 
then  the  vague  sensation  of  impending  danger  grew  into 
shape  at  a  recognizable  sound.  Noiselessly  almost,  but 
not  quite,  somebody  or  something  was  crawling  toward 
the  tent. 

Dane  suspended  his  very  respiration  as  he  strained  his 
eyes,  and  listened.  He  could  see  nothing,  and  his  ears 
seemed  filled  with  a  dull  throbbing,  but  in  spite  of  this 
he  could  hear  the  faintest  of  rustlings  on  two  sides  of  the 
tent  at  once,  and  knew  that,  because  no  white  man  could 
move  in  such  a  manner,  his  dusky  enemies  were  coming. 
One  seemed  to  be  making  for  the  end  of  the  tent,  where 
his  bed  was  spread;  the  other  was  creeping  toward  the 
entrance  to  prevent  the  escape  of  the  victim  in  case  his 
comrade  failed  at  the  first  attempt.  It  was  done  with  so 
little  noise  that  Dane  found  it  hard  to  realize  he  had 
creatures  of  flesh  and  blood  to  deal  with,  and  not  the 
malevolent  devils  the  bushmen  believed  in.  Bad  Dollar 
made  no  further  movement,  and  Dane  crouched  woodenly 
still,  only  sliding  his  forefinger  inside  the  guard  of  the 


290  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

trigger  when  at  last  a  spray  of  leaves  swished  softly  a  few 
yards  away. 

Then  he  heard  somebody  breathing  close  beside  him, 
and  knew  that  sudden  death  stood  hidden  behind  the 
slacker  sheeting  which  began  to  roll  back  very  slowly; 
and  yet,  while  the  throbbing  in  his  ears  grew  louder,  he 
remained  impassive  another  few  seconds.  He  had  awaited 
that  moment  patiently;  and  he  meant  to  strike  decisively, 
for  his  dead  comrade's  sake.  There  was  no  light.  The 
night  was  black  and  thick;  but  some  sense  beside  that  of 
the  optic  nerve  made  it  evident  that  part  of  the  moving 
sheeting  was  more  rigid  than  the  rest  because  it  rested 
against  human  flesh.  Knowing  that  at  the  next  move  the 
assassin  would  fall  over  him,  Dane  felt  for  that  portion 
of  the  sheeting  with  the  muzzle  of  the  gun  while  his  fore- 
finger contracted  on  the  trigger. 

The  barrel  found  something  that  yielded  as  he  added 
the  last  ounce  of  pressure;  there  was  a  detonation;  the 
white  man  fell  backward  with  his  eyes  filled  with  smoke 
and  two  fingers  gashed  by  the  trigger  guard;  and  some- 
thing that  struggled  convulsively  fell  upon  the  canvas 
and  bore  it  down. 

The  tent  collapsed  behind  Dane  as  he  slipped  from 
under  it;  but  knowing  how  the  heavy  B-shot  would  at 
that  distance  smash  through  bone  and  muscle,  he  paid 
no  more  attention  to  this  assailant.  First  he  snapped 
out  the  spent  cartridge  and  crammed  another  home,  then, 
striking  a  match,  touched  the  signal  light.  It  smoldered 
for  a  moment,  then  a  column  of  blue  fire  swept  aloft,  and 
its  radiance  which  beat  athwart  the  towering  trunks 
showed  a  striking  spectacle. 

Close  behind  the  white  man  a  shapeless  heap  of  fur 
and  black  flesh  lay  quivering  upon  the  over-turned  tent. 


AN  EYE  FOR  AN  EYE  291 

Half-seen  for  a  second  a  dim  figure,  whose  garments  were 
not  those  of  a  native,  vanished  among  the  remoter  trunks. 
Men  with  weapons  came  flitting  out  of  the  shadows  which 
shrouded  the  camp;  and  about  thirty  yards  away  a  mon- 
strous object  with  the  head  of  a  beast  and  the  legs  of  a 
man  was  slinking  toward  a  creeper  festoon.  Dane  flung 
the  gun  to  his  sho older  and  fired  as  it  ran,  but  the  glare  of 
the  light  beat  transversely  along  the  barrel,  blinding  him. 
Springing  clear  of  the  filmy  smoke,  he  saw  the  second 
assailant  was  still  running,  and  he  sprang  forward  with- 
out waiting  to  reload.  The  light  would  last  but  a  few 
more  seconds.  Still,  the  object  moved  at  twice  his  speed, 
and  might  have  escaped  but  that  as  he  blundered  on, 
choking  in  his  haste,  a  diminutive  figure  ran  forth  to 
meet  it,  and  the  beast  flung  an  upper  limb  aloft.  Dane 
saw  the  spear  which  had  been  meant  for  his  destruction 
draw  back  to  stab;  but  the  negro,  Bad  Dollar,  sprang 
sideways,  and  his  broad  matchet,  long  filed  to  a  razor- 
edge,  flared  under  the  last  flicker  of  the  light  as  he  swung 
it  round  his  head.  Then  there  was  sudden  darkness,  a 
thud  and  a  crash. 

Dane,  guessing  that  Bad  Dollar's  matchet  had  bit- 
ten deep,  and  that  his  carrier  comrades  would  see 
his  victim  did  not  escape,  turned  at  top-most  speed  in 
the  direction  of  the  creek.  Men  came  running  behind 
him;  but  a  heavier  sound  was  audible  through  the  patter 
of  their  feet,  and  he  knew  that  one  who  was  not  bare- 
footed fled  for  his  life  near  ahead.  He  was  running 
fast,  but  Dane,  flinging  the  gun  down,  knew  that  he  was 
gaining,  and  remembered  that  the  man  he  sought  would 
find  his  passage  barred  across  the  creek.  So  they  ran, 
straining  every  sinew  in  a  desperate  race.  Now  and 
then  one  smashed  through  a  thorn  brake,  or  staggered, 


292    THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

catching  his  foot  in  a  creeper  vine,  but  neither  went  down, 
and  the  gurgle  of  the  creek  grew  nearer  all  the  time. 
Dane  raised  his  voice,  and  though  his  cry  was  barely 
articulate  it  proved  sufficient,  and  as  Amadu's  hail 
came  back  in  answer  the  footsteps  before  him  grew 
slower,  and  a  tongue  of  flame  shot  up. 

So  far  there  had  been  no  miscarriage,  and  to  furnish 
light  for  the  climax  a  torch  had  been  kept  ready  by  one 
of  Amadu's  men.  It  showed  first  the  group  of  grim 
black  figures  which  guarded  the  narrow  path  to  the  water 
through  tall  cane,  and  then  a  man  in  European  dress 
who  stood  still,  gasping  with  fear  and  rage. 

It  was  Victor  Rideau. 

"See  that  no  boy  fires  on  him  unless  he  moves !" 
Dane  made  shift  to  cry;  and  Rideau,  turning,  met 
him  face  to  face. 

"I  have  expected  you  a  long  time,"  Dane  said 
brokenly,  for  the  race  had  taxed  his  strength,  and 
once  more  he  was  shaken  by  a  fit  of  futile  rage.  "Now 
I  can't  tell  you  how  I  regret  we  did  not  meet  just  five 
minutes  earlier." 

This  was  an  adequate  expression  of  the  pursuer's 
feelings,  for  as  his  enemy  stood  gazing  about  him  in 
abject  terror,  Dane  felt  he  could  not  strike  him  down 
in  cold  blood,  and  he  longed  fiercely  that  he  might  be 
provoked  to  some  fresh  violence. 

"Can  you  understand,  you  thief  and  midnight  as- 
sassin, that  there  is  not  enough  room  in  this  country 
for  both  of  us?" 

"I  comprehend  nothing,  camarade,"  Rideau  answered 
calmly.  "What  would  you  of  me?" 

"Satisfaction!"  Dane  tried  to  choke  down  his  fury. 
"There  is  a  long  account  between  us,  and  we  could 


AN  EYE  FOR  AN  EYE  293 

have  settled  it  with  less  difficulty  if  you  had  had  the 
courage  of  your  confederates  a  few  minutes  ago.  As  it 
is,  you  can  choose  between  a  dash  for  the  forest  and  a 
volley  as  you  go,  or  a  journey  down  to  the  coast  in  my 
custody.  There  you  will  be  turned  over  to  the  authori- 
ties. I  reserve  myself  the  privilege,  if  they  do  not  render 
you  incapable  of  further  mischief." 

Rideau  laughed. 

"There  I  should  denounce  you  for  the  plunder  and  kill- 
ing of  the  Indigene.  The  Administration  has  no  charge 
against  me.  I  am  good  friend  of  the  sous  official,  me. 
My  friend,  you  are  excite,  and  talk  foolishly." 

"If  the  chief  of  the  Administration  is  a  friend  of 
yours,  his  own  words  don't  bear  it  out.  I  can  substan- 
tiate quite  sufficient  against  you;  and  unless  I'm  greatly 
mistaken,  the  man  with  the  cross  on  his  forehead  lies 
riddled  with  big  shot  beside  my  tent.  A  number  of 
my  boys  will  swear  to  his  identity.  In  the  meantime 
I  have  no  further  words  to  waste  with  you.  I  intend 
to  give  the  Administration  the  first  opportunity  for  re- 
warding you.  It  will  be  time  for  me  to  take  further 
steps  if  they  do  not  profit  by  it  as  I  think  they  will." 

Dane  felt  that  he  was  weak;  but  even  in  his  passion 
there  were  things  he  could  not  do,  and  his  enemy's 
helplessness  was  his  protection.  Also,  he  knew  that 
justice  is  tempered  with  discretion  throughout  much 
of  that  country,  and  he  hoped  that  if  the  Authorities 
suspected  Rideau  of  different  offenses,  but  could  not  con- 
vict him,  they  would  see  that  this  charge  did  not 
miscarry. 

The  assumption  of  indifference  faded  from  Rideau's 
face,  and  with  a  swift  glance  over  his  shoulder  he  drew 
out  his  hand  from  under  his  jacket.  Dane  afterward 


294  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

decided  that  he  saw,  what  all  the  rest  were  too  intent  to 
notice,  that  the  torch  was  burning  out;  for  with  an 
evident  effort  and  a  shrug  of  his  shoulders  he  answered 
quietly. 

"La  has  they  laugh  at  you,  and  I  make  you  pay. 
Alors,  when  I  am  impotent  I  surrender  to  the  force 
majeure." 

Dane,  calling  to  Amadu,  strode  forward  with  the 
failing  light  upon  him.  Unarmed  as  he  was,  this  was 
distinctly  foolish,  and  he  might  have  paid  for  his  folly, 
for  just  before  the  negro  dropped  the  torch  Rideau 
flung  one  hand  up,  and  simultaneously  with  a  thin 
flash  something  hummed  past  the  Briton's  head. 
There  was  bewildering  darkness,  and  Dane  ran  straight 
in  upon  his  emeny,  or  where  he  supposed  him  to 
be,  determined  in  spite  of  the  pistol  to  end  the  feud 
there  and  then.  Rideau,  however,  had  beaten  him 
again,  for  the  growth  about  the  water-side  began 
crackling,  and  when  some  of  Amadu' s  men  fired  into 
it,  the  sound  did  not  cease,  and  they  only  came  near 
destroying  their  master,  who  plunged  savagely  through 
the  bending  stems. 

He  fell  into  a  pit  of  slime,  sinking  to  the  waist,  and 
lost  precious  time  floundering  in  its  oozy  grip  before 
he  dragged  himself  out.  Then  there  was  further  ooze 
with  matted  roots  which  fouled  his  feet,  while  a  sound 
behind  him  showed  that  the  negroes  were  following. 
It  was  Amadu  who,  when  he  had  waded  up  to  the  shoul- 
ders and  sought  for  room  to  swim,  dragged  him  back- 
ward by  main  force;  and  though  Dane  struggled,  he  was 
held  fast  in  a  grasp  against  which  he  was  powerless. 

"If  the  white  man  is  alive  he  makes  no  sound,"  he 
said.  "No  man  could  find  him  in  this  darkness,  but 


AN  EYE  FOR  AN  EYE  295 

perhaps  they  who  crawl  along  the  bottom  will.  Still"; 
when  one  brings  the  canoe  up  we  will  look  for  him." 

As  his  reason  returned  to  him  Dane  realized  that 
the  search  would  be  useless.  A  hundred  men  might  fail 
to  find  a  fugitive  who  cowered  motionless  amid  the 
luxuriant  aquatic  growth,  though,  as  Amadu  had  sug- 
gested, the  scaled  inhabitants  of  the  river  would  be 
less  likely  to  miss  him.  Still,  when  somebody  brought 
up  a  canoe  he  encouraged  them  by  extravagant  offers 
of  cloth,  and  then  turned  back  hurriedly  toward  the 
camp.  It  would,  while  the  confusion  lasted,  lie  open 
to  attack;  and  Dane  hoped  that  his  enemy,  if  he  suc- 
ceeded in  crossing  the  river,  would  leave  a  trail  behind 
him  which  could  be  followed  on  the  morrow. 

Reaching  his  overturned  tent  he  found  a  group  of 
curious  negroes  clustered  about  it,  and  because  a  fire 
had  been  lighted,  there  was  light  to  show  that  the 
huddled  mass  of  fur  and  dusky  skin  lay  where  it  had 
fallen.  The  canvas  was  foul  with  half-coagulated 
stains  whose  color  made  it  unnecessary  to  inquire  if 
the  wound  had  been  fatal.  Dane  had  no  compunction. 
The  man  who  had  been  slain  when  seeking  his  life  with 
devilish  cunning  was  one  of  the  league  which  had  struck 
down  his  comrade.  Stooping  with  a  shudder  of  disgust, 
he  stripped  the  leopard's  fur  from  the  face  beneath,  and 
was  not  surprised  to  see  that  a  cross-shaped  scar  on  the 
forehead  showed  lividly. 

"Where  is  the  other?  There  were  two?"  he  asked; 
and  it  was  with  relief  that  he  saw  Bad  Dollar,  whom  he 
had  forgotten,  shamble  toward  him  and  then  turn 
beckoning.  Dane  followed  the  negro,  who  held  high 
a  blazing  brand,  toward  where  another  monstrous 
object  lay  full  length  among  the  trampled  undergrowth. 


£96  THE  LEAGUE  OP  THE  LEOPARD 

The  fur  had  fallen  partly  clear  of  the  flesh  beneath,  and 
he  saw  that  Bad  Dollar's  matchet  had  done  its  work. 

"Come  here,  all  of  you,"  called  Dane.  "Tell  them 
to  look  at  this  man's  neck,  Monday,  and  say  if  they 
know  the  meaning  of  what  there  is  about  it." 

Monday  talked  with  some  of  the  negroes,  who, 
chattering  excitedly,  bent  with  fear  and  hesitation, 
to  examine  the  tattooed  device. 

"Them  boy  say  this  yellow  nigger  and  them  other 
be  big  cappy  among  them  Leopard,  sah,"  Monday 
interpreted.  "That  be  the  Ju-ju  mark,  and  no  common 
nigger  done  wear  him,  sah." 

"Cappy  Maxwell  was  right  again,"  said  Dane. 
"Make  me  a  bed  in  the  camp  and  burn  that  tent  to- 
morrow, Monday.  I  could  not  sleep  in  it — and  I  think 
until  I  leave  this  ghastly  country  I  shall  not  sleep 
again.  See  to  the  sentries  and  let  the  rest  lie  down 
while  they  can.  We  lib  for  go  on  again  with  the 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

THE  ESCAPE 

DANE  was  mistaken  when  he  said  he  could  not 
sleep,  for  hardly  had  Amadu  returned  to  report 
his  failure  to  find  any  trace  of  the  fugitive  than  he  sank 
into  deep  slumber.  This  was  not  strange.  He  had 
lived  for  some  time  under  a  constant  strain,  sleeping 
very  little;  and  now  that  part  at  least  of  his  task  was 
accomplished  nature  had  her  way.  It  was  true  that 
Rideau  had  escaped  him,  but  Dane  believed  that 
if  he  was  alive  they  might  still  overtake  him.  He 
decided  that  Rideau's  life  would  no  longer  be  worth 
a  day's  purchase  in  the  Leopards'  country,  and  he 
would  head  at  once  for  the  coast. 

Events  proved  him  right,  for  when  he  opened  his 
eyes  the  next  morning  Amadu  stood  beside  his  couch 
to  say  that  Rideau  had  left  a  trail  it  was  easy  to 
follow  across  the  creek,  and  that  the  boys  were 
ready  to  march.  They  started  forthwith,  and  that 
was  the  beginning  of  a  memorable  chase.  Every 
indispensable  pound  of  weight,  including  the  weapons, 
was  ruthlessly  flung  away  once  they  entered  a  settled 
country.  The  time  for  food  and  sleep  was  cut  down, 
and  the  camp  boys,  seeing  that  the  road  led  south 
toward  the  sea,  vied  with  each  other  in  their  efforts 
to  shorten  the  journey.  The  forest  rolled  behind  them, 
as  did  miles  of  dusty  grass;  but  the  chase  never  slack- 
ened, and,  for  this  region  was  populous,  they  had 

297 


298  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

news  of  the  fugitive.  One  morning  Dane  reached  a 
village  he  had  passed  the  previous  night.  At  another 
they  missed  him  by  a  few  hours,  and  found  two  lame 
men  he  had  hired  and  left  behind. 

Dane's  own  men  had  flung  themselves  down  panting 
in  the  shade,  but  most  of  them  rose  cheerfully  in  answer 
to  his  summons,  while  Monday  used  forcible  arguments 
to  encourage  the  rest,  and  in  ten  minutes  all  were  on 
their  way  again.  They  lost  the  path  in  a  morass, 
and  at  the  next  village  they  found  that  Rideau  had 
increased  his  lead;  but  Dane  knew  that  they  were  near 
the  coast,  and  that  he  held  his  enemy  between  him  and 
the  sea.  So  the  chase  went  on,  until  they  reached  a 
native  market  on  the  banks  of  a  broad  stream.  A 
white  man,  so  its  ruler  stated,  had  seized  a  canoe  there 
a  few  hours  earlier. 

"Say  dam  low  t'ief  man  done  go  chop  one  canoe 
and  lib  for  get  out  like  the  debbil  down  them  river," 
explained  a  negro  who  seemed  proud  of  his  linguistic 
abilities. 

"Tell  your  headman  I'll  pay  twice  its  value  for  the 
best  craft  he  has/'  said  Dane;  and  then  consulted 
with  his  subordinates,  for  it  was  evident  that  they 
must  divide  forces  here.  It  was  not  more  than  three 
days'  journey  to  the  coast,  the  headman  said;  and 
taking  Amadu,  Bad  Dollar,  and  six  picked  Kroo- 
boys  with  him  in  the  big  canoe,  he  left  Monday  to  follow 
with  the  rest  to  Little  Mahu.  Dane  felt  sorely  tempted 
to  leave  the  gold  with  the  headman,  under  guard,  but 
thought  better  of  it. 

The  Kroos  were  skilled  with  the  paddle,  the  canoe 
was  long  and  fast,  and  Dane's  spirits  rose  as  he  felt  the 
thin  shell  surge  forward  at  every  sturdy  stroke.  All 


THE  ESCAPE  299 

that  day  the  dusky  bodies,  stripped  to  the  costume  of 
Eden,  swayed  athwart  his  vision  over  the  flashing 
blades,  as  he  stared  forward  with  aching  eyes  down 
the  long  vista  of  dazzling  water  that  unrolled  itself  be- 
fore him.  Palms,  cottonwoods,  creeper  festoons,  mud 
banks,  fled  astern.  The  temperature  grew  suffocating 
under  the  glare  of  afternoon,  but  still  the  thudding 
paddles  rose  and  fell,  while  froth  licked  the  bows  and 
the  paddling  song  rose  in  spasmodic  gasps.  At  sunset 
they  met  a  big  trade  canoe  toiling  upstream;  and, 
excited  by  promises  of  rich  reward,  the  crew  roused 
themselves  to  fresh  effort  when  its  helmsman  told  them 
that  another  craft  with  three  men  in  it,  one  of  whom 
was  dressed  as  a  white  man,  had  passed  him  an  hour 
earlier. 

A  full  moon  rose  over  the  forest  presently,  and  they 
pushed  on  across  stretches  of  glistening  silver  and 
breadths  of  inky  gloom.  The  Kroos  had  done  gallantly, 
but  they  were  only  beings  of  flesh  and  blood,  and  their 
strength  was  ebbing  fast.  One  who  had  dropped  his 
paddle  lay  idle  in  the  bows,  another  appeared  to  be 
choking,  and  fouled  his  comrade's  blade,  while  the 
paddles  of  the  rest  dipped  at  steadily  increasing  inter- 
vals; so  seeing  that  neither  bribes  nor  threats  could 
stir  them,  Dane  desisted,  almost  too  hoarse  to  make 
his  voice  audible.  His  hands  were  raw  and  bleeding 
where  the  haft  of  his  paddle  had  eaten  into  them.  The 
stream,  however,  ran  with  them,  and  they  still  made 
headway,  while  he  strained  his  heavy  eyes,  expecting 
each  moment  to  see  a  canoe  ahead. 

Dane,  however,  even  yet  had  not  gaged  his  enemy's 
ingenuity. 

They  ran  the  craft  alongside  the  landing  of  a  native 


300  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

village  in  another  hour  or  two,  crawled  out  of  her  very 
stiffly,  and  were  told  by  the  headman  that  two  negroes 
had  come  ashore  from  a  passing  craft  to  purchase  food 
a  little  earlier,  while  a  white  man  lay  still  in  her  bottom. 
Dane  concluded  from  this  that  the  fugitive  had  slightly 
increased  his  lead,  and  he  was  wondering  whether 
he  could  by  main  force  get  his  boys  on  beard  again,  or 
could  engage  a  fresh  crew,  when  a  negro  who  spoke 
English  plucked  his  sleeve. 

"I  go  look  them  white  men  in  canoe  soffly,  soffly. 
What  you  lib  for  dash  me  if  I  tell  you  something, 
suh?" 

Dane  had  nothing  left  to  offer  as  a  present,  and 
seizing  the  man  by  the  shoulder,  shook  him  violently. 

"Tell  me  at  once,  and  you  shall  have  whatever 
you  want  if  you  will  go  to  Mahu  for  it,"  he  said. 

The  headman  protested,  but  the  negro  only  grinned 
when  Dane  slackened  his  grip. 

"  I  not  fool  man,  sah.  The  Lord  he  give  me  sense  too 
much.  You  done  dash  me  them  jackus  you  have  on 


now." 


Dane's  duck  jacket  was  badly  rent,  but  it  was  garn- 
ished with  ornamental  metal  buttons  such  as  the  black 
man  loves.  Tearing  it  off,  he  flung  it  at  the  speaker. 
The  heathen,  finding  himself  successful,  desired  the 
white  man's  trousers  too;  but  this  time  Dane,  disre- 
garding the  headman,  shook  him  savagely. 

"I  go  look  them  white  man,  sah.  He  was  a  black 
man  in  white  man's  clofes." 

Dane  stared  at  the  man  stupidly;  and  then  clustering 
huts,  red  fires,  and  wondering  negroes,  grew  hazy  before 
him,  as  choking  with  fury  he  saw  what  had  happened. 
Rideau  had  changed  clothes  with  one  of  his  followers, 


THE  ESCAPE  301 

and  sending  him  on  for  the  pursuers  to  follow,  had 
landed  and  vanished  into  the  forest.  It  was  of  the 
first  importance  to  decide  where  he  would  make  for. 
Mastering  himself  with  an  effort,  Dane  managed  to 
obtain  some  useful  information  from  the  headman. 
Mahu,  being  partially  sheltered,  was  the  only  port  in 
that  vicinity  where  any  one  would  be  likely  to  find 
surf -boats,  or  canoes  suitable  for  a  coast  trip,  he  said; 
for  the  bar  of  the  river  they  had  descended  was  generally 
impassable.  It  seemed  hardly  probable  that  Rideau 
would  turn  north  again  without  equipment  or  escort; 
and  deciding  that  he  would  endeavor  to  escape  from  the 
colony  before  the  authorities  heard  his  pursuer's  story, 
Dane  determined  to  push  on  at  once  for  Redmond's 
factory.  His  men,  however,  were  utterly  worn  out, 
and  finally  declined  to  drag  themselves  a  yard  farther. 
Bad  Dollar  lay  down,  and  was  either  unwilling  or  unable 
to  get  up  again;  only  Amadu  remained  unbeaten. 
Finally  the  headman  was  prevailed  upon  to  provide 
carriers,  and  Dane  and  Amadu  were  borne  out  of  the 
village  in  lurching  hammocks. 

At  first  the  motion  of  a  hammock  is  soothing,  but 
though  very  weary  Dane  could  not  sleep.  The  boys 
marched  well;  but  consumed  with  impatience,  he  lay 
wide  awake  peering  into  the  darkness,  and  striving  to 
encourage  them  to  more  determined  effort.  They 
ceased  the  carrying  song  from  sheer  lack  of  breath,  and 
the  white  man  could  hear  them  panting  beneath  him. 
The  sun  rose,  but  there  was  no  halt  for  rest;  and  the 
men  were  stumbling  when  one  shouted  excitedly,  and 
not  far  ahead  low  whitewashed  buildings  rose  dazzlingly 
against  the  sea. 

When  the  carriers  halted  in  front  of  them,  two  traders 


302  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

whom  Dane  recognized  from  Maxwell's  description 
met  him  at  the  compound  gate,  and  stared  wonderingly 
when,  watching  them  with  bloodshot  eyes,  the  newcomer 
told  his  name. 

"  Where  are  the  rest  of  you,  and  Maxwell?"  asked 
Redmond.  "You  can't  have  lost  the  whole  of  them; 
though  there's  no  need  to  tell  me  something  has  gone 
wrong.  Few  men  come  home  from  the  back  country 
looking  as  though  they  had  enjoyed  the  experience,  but 
you're  almost  as  bad  as  the  last  one." 

"I  have  not  enjoyed  mine,"  Dane  answered  huskily; 
for  he  remembered  with  what  hopes  and  in  whose  com- 
pany he  had  first  marched  from  the  sea,  and  the 
contrast  was  bitter.  "Maxwell  has  made  his  last 
journey." 

"Dead?" 

Dane  nodded;  and  Gilby  laid  a  hand  on  his  shoulder 
with  a  gesture  of  sympathy  which  touched  him. 

"  He  was  a  wonderful  man — but  all  the  rest  of  them 
are  not  dead,  too?" 

"We  lost  too  many.  The  rest  are  following.  I  will 
try  to  tell  you  all  in  good  time.  Has  Rideau  arrived 
here  lately?" 

Gilby  smiled  dryly. 

"He  has;  and  the  way  he  did  it  coupled  with  your  own 
appearance  would  stir  up  any  man's  curiosity.  Rideau 
came  in  dressed  like  a  nigger  this  morning,  in  the  hottest 
hurry,  saying  he'd  important  business  down  the  coast, 
and  offered  me  my  own  price  for  the  loan  of  our  big 
surf -boat  to  go  there  in." 

"You  didn't  let  him  have  it!"  Dane  gasped. 

"We  don't  often  let  business  pass  us;  but  I  told  him 
to  go  to  perdition,  if  he  could  find  his  way  swimming." 


THE  ESCAPE  303 

Gilby  chuckled.     "I  also  told  him  several  things  that 
needn't  be  repeated." 

"  Gilby  never  had  any  sense  to  spare,"  interjected  his 
comrade.  "He  was  so  proud  of  the  speech  he  made 
that  instead  of  warning  the  niggers  not  to  help  him,  he 
did  nothing  except  tell  me  how  he  said  it;  and  Rideau 
got  some  fishermen  to  take  him  east  in  their  canoe. 
They'll  be  well  away  to  leeward  now.  What  did  the 
brute  do?" 

"  Instigated  my  partner's  murder,  and  twice  at- 
tempted my  own  life,"  Dane  answered  in  breathless 
haste.  "But  I'm  in  no  mood  to  waste  time.  Will  you 
hire  me  that  surf-boat?" 

"If  you  want  her  to  follow  Rideau  you  shall  have  the 
boat  for  nothing,  and  we'll  both  come  along,"  said 
Redmond.  "  Gilby,  get  down  to  the  beach  and  see  to 
the  gear  and  crew.  Meantime,  you  are  coming  straight 
into  the  factory  to  get  some  food.  Where  is  Rideau 
making  for?  That  I  don't  know,  but  he'll  probably 
try  to  get  on  board  the  Minella  if  he's  afraid  of  you. 
She's  billed  on  a  stopping  trip  for  Lagos,  but  she'll  edge 
close  round  Twin  Point  Bluff,  and  he'll  no  doubt  try  to 
board  her  there.  There's  a  nice  southwester  blowing 
now,  and  under  the  big  lugsail  we  ought  to  overhaul  the 
canoe  before  he  does  so.  She  can't  have  got  far  until 
the  breeze  sprang  up." 

Dane  had  eaten  little  of  late,  but  the  food  forced 
upon  him  almost  choked  him  now;  and  leaving  most  of 
it  un tasted,  he  drank  feverishly;  then  finding  himself 
almost  too  exhausted  to  pace  the  veranda,  he  flung 
himself  impatiently  into  a  chair. 

"Will  that  boat  never  be  ready?"  he  asked. 

"I'm  hurrying  her,"  replied  Gilby,  who  also  seemed 


304  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

impatient.  "One  boy's  sewing  a  new  cloth  in  the  sail, 
and  as  she's  too  big  to  paddle  far,  we  can't  start  until 
it's  finished.  She  wants  some  pitch  run  into  her  bilge 
seams,  too,  and  won't  be  ready  for  an  hour  or  longer. 
Still,  I'm  hoping  to  overhaul  Rideau  early  to-morrow— 
and  he  won't  enjoy  the  meeting,  by  the  look  of  you." 

After  some  discussion  Redmond  reluctantly  agreed 
to  remain  behind  in  charge  of  the  gold  Dane  brought 
down;  and  it  was  nearly  dark  when,  without  shipping 
overmuch  water,  the  surf-boat  cleared  the  beach, 
and  with  tall  lugsail  straining,  lurched  away  eastward 
over  the  moonlit  swell.  It  was  then  that,  lying  in  the 
stern  to  rest  and  gather  strength  for  what  [might  yet 
be  required  of  him,  Dane  told  Gilby  his  detailed  story. 
He  could  afterward  recall  the  intent  face  fixed  upon  him, 
the  crash  of  breakers  throbbing  through  the  haze  that 
hid  the  shore,  and  the  listing  craft's  swift  rise  and  fall. 
At  the  time,  however,  he  was  conscious  of  nothing  except 
that  they  were  speeding  east,  and  that  the  trader  as- 
sured him  the  slender  native  canoe  dare  carry  very 
little  sail  in  such  a  strength  of  breeze.  Gilby  held  the 
tiller,  a  big  Krooboy  sat  on  the  weather  gunwale  slacking 
off  the  lugsail  sheet  each  time  the  boat  dipped  her  side 
to  a  stronger  puff  of  breeze,  and  Amadu  lay  on  the 
weather  floorings,  deadly  sick  and  groaning  horribly, 
to  the  amusement  of  the  amphibious  heathen. 

"It  will  be  remembered  that  I  have  suffered  these 
torments  for  my  master's  sake,"  he  said  in  a  mixture 
of  several  tongues.  "Still,  once  we  land  I  will  beat  the 
life  out  of  some  of  these  dogs." 

The  craft  traveled  fast,  for  the  off-shore  breeze  blew 
fresh  abeam;  and  though  at  times  it  lashed  the  waters 
into  foam,  the  helmsman  daringly  held  on  to  the  whole 


THE  ESCAPE  305 

lugsail;  and  so  at  last,  when  the  moon  hung  low  in  the 
west,  and  pearly  streaks  brightened  over  her  starboard 
bow,  a  tall  bluff  loomed  blackly  through  the  haze  ahead. 

"Twin  Point,"  said  Gilby,  shaking  the  spray  from 
his  jacket.  "I  have  kept  her  well  inshore  for  a  purpose, 
but  now  we'll  ease  the  sheet  off.  We  should  see  the 
canoe  once  we  round  the  head.  The  Minella  can't  be  far 
off  by  this  time,  either." 

Dane  rose  stiffly,  but  he  could  see  little  except  the 
belts  of  thinning  haze  which  dimmed  the  waters  ahead. 
He  could  hear  the  thunder  of  breakers  on  the  invisible 
foot  of  the  cliff.  The  light  was  growing  each  moment, 
the  breeze  dying  fast,  and  presently  the  damp  lugsail 
slatted  against  the  mast. 

"  Get  out  your  paddles!"  ordered  Gilby. 

The  lugsail  rustled  down,  the  mast  was  lowered. 
Muscular  black  men  perched  themselves  on  the  gun- 
wales, and  the  paddles  beat  the  water,  while,  when 
they  had  brought  the  head  abeam,  the  mist  rolled 
back,  and  the  red  track  of  the  sunrise  streaked  the 
heaving  sea.  A  low,  black  blur  and  a  smear  of  smoke 
crawled  athwart  it;  while  nearer  the  shore,  and  seen 
only  when  the  surf-boat  climbed  the  long  undulations,  a 
dusky  strip,  with  moving  figures  silhouetted  against  the 
radiant  sea,  lurched  toward  the  approaching  steamer. 

" There  he  is!"  Dane  shouted.  "  Gilby,  promise 
those  boys  anything  if  we  overtake  him!  Pull  up  your 
tiller  and  swing  her  farther  off-shore !  If  we  pass  out  of 
hailing  distance  I  shall  miss  the  steamer." 

"You  are  right;  and  that's  the  Minella"  was  the 
answer.  "Still,  if  you  wish  to  meet  Mr.  Rideau  you 
had  better  let  me  arrange  things  for  you.  We  can  see 
him  out  there,  but  he  won't  see  us  under  the  high  bluff 


306     THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

as  yet,  and  his  boys  don't  seem  to  be  killing  themselves 
yonder.  He'll  expect  us  coming  up  from  the  south- 
west, and  that  is  why  I  edged  in  along  the  shore. 
Besides,  there's  a  nasty  piece  of  stone  lying  off  the  False 
Point  which,  as  the  stream  sets  strong  over  it,  it's  wiser 
to  keep  well  clear  of." 

Straining  his  eyes,  Dane  could  see  the  surf  on  the 
Twin  promontory  some  distance  away;  and  while  he 
watched  it  a  long  undulation  outshore  of  it  was  rent 
asunder  and  a  column  of  foam  rushed  aloft.  It  dis- 
sipated into  filmy  spray,  and  a  dull  roar  reached  the 
listeners  faintly.  The  steep  swell  of  the  southern  ocean 
breaks  heavily  along  the  coast. 

"That's  Sunk  Reed,"  said  Gilby.  "A  steam-boat 
went  ashore  there  three  years  ago  and  smashed  most  of 
her  bottom  out  in  less  then  five  minutes.  Since  then 
careful  skippers  coming  round  False  Point  haul  out 
from  shore.  By  the  way  the  Minella's  steering,  it's  not 
certain  that  either  Rideau  or  ourselves  will  catch  her. 
Paddle,  you  black  devils,  paddle!" 

Dane  fancied  the  boys  were  doing  their  utmost,  but 
the  progress  they  made  appeared  distressfully  slow. 
The  steamer  was  rising  higher  all  the  time,  but  thin  haze 
still  clung  about  the  rocks,  and  the  surf-boat  probably 
remained  unseen  against  the  towering  background. 
The  canoe  also  was  growing  larger,  and  Dane  could 
plainly  see  the  sunken  reef  hurling  clouds  of  spray  aloft 
ahead  of  her,  for  the  flood-tide  joining  the  usual  east- 
ward current  was  setting  strong  across  it.  Presently  a 
figure  waving  a  white  cotton  cloth  rose  upright  in  the 
craft  and  the  paddles  whirled  faster,  but  there  was  no 
answering  hoot  from  the  steamer's  whistle. 

"The  Minella's  deep,  and  her  skipper  wouldn't  stop 


THE  ESCAPE  307 

long  for  a  Colonial  Governor  when  he  has  a  full  cargo  on 
board,"  explained  Gilby.  "It  will  be  a  tight  fit  to 
catch  her;  but  we  could  head  off  Rideau,  who  doesn't 
see  us  yet.  I  don't  think  his  boys,  being  strangers, 
know  how  far  that  reef  runs  out.  Only  the  steeper  seas 
break  on  the  outer  end  of  it." 

"Head  him  off.  Never  mind  the  steamer,"  Dane 
said  hoarsely. 

The  boys  made  further  efforts.  Foam  lapped  about 
the  bows,  the  splash  of  paddles  swelled  into  a  resonant 
thudding,  and  Gilby  pulled  hard  upon  his  helm. 

"They  see  us  at  last!" 

Dane  stood  upright,  cheering  on  the  paddlers,  who 
broke  into  a  gasping  song,  and  both  craft  went  flying 
across  the  swell;  but  as  they  edged  outshore  it  became 
evident  that  Rideau  must  pass  the  reef  closely  to  reach 
the  steamer.  Rolling  heavily,  she  still  came  on,  perhaps 
a  mile  away,  with  unslackened  speed.  The  spouting 
on  the  reef  drew  nearer,  and  Dane's  voice  seemed  to 
break  up  in  his  throat,  for  unless  Rideau  could  clear  it 
during  the  next  few  minutes  the  pursuers  felt  sure  of 
him.  Dane  had  no  paddle,  and  there  being  nothing 
he  could  do,  he  stared  forward,  moistening  his  parched 
lips  with  his  tongue.  Quickening  a  trifle,  the  paddles 
flashed  and  fell,  while  the  lurching  hull  leaped  forward  at 
every  impetus;  but  it  seemed  to  the  anxious  man  that 
she  was  merely  crawling  over  the  flaming  sea. 

"We  have  him!"  gasped  Gilby,  with  exultation  in 
his  tone.  "If  he  holds  clear  of  the  reef  we  have  him 
safe!  Hallo!  Where  is  he  going  now?  It's  a  very 
odd  chance  he  shoots  through  between  the  seas." 

Dane  already  had  noticed  that  the  outer  end  of  the 
reef  was  marked  only  by  a  swirl  of  water  when  the 


308  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

smaller  seas  passed.  As  Gilby  spoke,  the  canoe  was 
turned  straight  toward  it. 

"What  that  man  can  do  we  can.  Follow  him!" 
Dane  cried;  but  Gilby  signaled  to  his  crew,  and  they 
slackened  their  paddling.  They  were  far  from  timid, 
but  they  had  not  lost  their  reason. 

Twice  the  sea  was  rent  apart  ahead,  and  sheets  of 
foam  rushed  up,  while  the  sound  of  its  impact  on  the 
reef  rang  in  a  deafening  crash.  Then  the  pursuit  ended 
suddenly. 

"Are  they  mad,  or  turning  on  him?"  gasped  Gilby. 

A  man  flung  in  his  paddle  on  board  the  craft  ahead. 
The  flash  of  a  pistol  followed,  but  no  sound  was  audible 
through  the  thunder  of  the  reef.  Then  a  black  form 
rose  upright  with  paddle  swung  high,  and  a  long  sea 
rose  between  the  pursuers  and  the  canoe.  When  it 
passed,  the  frail  craft  floated  bottom  uppermost,  and 
the  reef  hurled  up  a  smother  of  foam  close  ahead.  Al- 
ready several  black  heads  were  spread  out  across  the 
swell  as  the  native  crew  swam  for  dear  life  to  evade  the 
danger. 

Gilby's  boys  stopped  paddling  altogether. 

"Go  on!  Rideau's  clinging  to  the  canoe!"  shouted 
Dane. 

Gilby  looked  at  the  whirling  spray,  and  then  at  his 
comrade. 

"It  won't  be  in  this  world  he'll  answer  for  his  offenses. 
She's  drifting  straight  across  the  reef,  and  nothing  at 
that  distance  could  cheat  it." 

Dane  struck  the  nearest  negro. 

"Go  on!  Why  don't  you  paddle?  Gilby,  where 
that  man  goes  I  follow !" 

The  trader  gripped  him  savagely  by  the  arm. 


THE  ESCAPE  309 

"He  has  escaped  you.  Keep  still  or  I'll  fell  you 
with  the  tiller.  Are  you  mad?  There,  look  yonder. 
That  is  the  last  of  him." 

Staring  out  of  eyes  that  but  imperfectly  recorded 
their  impressions,  Dane  saw  the  black  hull  of  the  canoe 
swing  aloft  on  the  crest  of  a  sea  which  rolled  majestically 
toward  the  hidden  barrier.  The  wall  of  water  broke  up 
suddenly  with  a  deafening  roar,  and  a  tremendous  rush 
of  foam  hurled  itself  aloft.  When  it  fell,  there  was  no 
sign  of  the  canoe. 

"He  has  gone,"  said  Gilby,  in  a  curiously  strained 
voice.  "The  niggers  will  get  ashore  all  right.  You 
couldn't  drown  a  beach  man.  Rideau  will  be  smashed 
out  of  recognition.  Still,  we'll  paddle  round  to  leeward 
and  make  certain.  Appolyon,  you  try  to  signal  them 
'teamer." 

When  they  slid  round  the  other  side  of  the  barrier  a 
shattered  canoe  rocked  bottom-uppermost  on  the  con- 
fused welter,  but  there  was  no  sign  of  a  human  head ;  and 
when  the  blast  of  a  whistle  reached  the  searchers,  the 
surf-boat's  bow  was  toward  the  steamer. 

"You  had  better  goon  with  her  and  make  an  affidavit 
before  the  Commandant,  if  they'll  land  you,"  advised 
Gilby.  "I'll  send  in  a  written  statement  and  swear  to 
it  if  they  send  a  Commissioner.  Meantime,  we'll  keep 
your  boys  at  the  factory;  and,  in  case  we  might  want 
their  testimony,  I'll  take  off  Rideau's  niggers  too.  Of 
course,  we  had  no  intention  of  drowning  him,  but  the 
way  he  shot  that  poor  black  paddle-boy  lessens  one's 
regrets.  Rideau  was  dangerous  to  his  friends  to  the 
last." 

Dane  was  ready  to  act  upon  any  suggestion.  Worn 
out,  mentally  and  physically  alike,  he  could  not  think 


310  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

connectedly;  and  when,  climbing  the  lowered  ladder,  he 
was  surrounded  by  a  wondering  group  on  the  steamer's 
deck,  he  turned  from  them  savagely. 

"We  are  all  curious,"  said  the  skipper.  "What 
took  place  aboard  the  canoe — mutiny,  murder,  or  an 
outbreak  of  insanity?" 

"I  can't  tell  you  anything  now;  but  if  you  will  come 
ashore  with  me  at  the  next  French  station,  where  I 
must  make  a  declaration,  you  shall  hear  how  the  canoe 
was  wrecked  when  I  am  able  to  tell  it." 

"That  will  do,"  acquiesced  the  skipper.  "You 
certainly  don't  look  fit  for  unnecessary  talking  now. 
Better  turn  in,  and  I'll  send  our  doctor  along  to  you." 

Dane  was  glad  to  do  so;  but  he  had  hardly  flung  him- 
self down  in  his  room  before  the  doctor  came  in. 

"I  have  been  living  under  a  constant  strain  during 
the  last  few  months,  and  have  had  very  little  sleep  for 
weeks,"  he  said.  "Give  me  something  that  will  keep 
me  from  waking  or  thinking  for  twelve  hours,  if  you  have 
it." 

The  surgeon  touched  his  wrist  and  laid  a  hand  on  his 
forehead. 

"So  one  would  suppose,"  he  replied;  "but  if  the  scene 
we  just  witnessesd  was  the  climax  of  your  adventures,  I 
hardly  think  you  will  need  a  sleeping  draught.  Nature 
is  addicted  to  providing  her  own  remedy.  If  you'll 
take  the  dose  I'll  send  you,  you  will  probably  wake  up 
considerably  better.  It  will  not  contain  narcotics." 

He  went  out,  and  Dane  soon  sank  into  deep,  refreshing 
sleep. 


CHAPTER  XXV 

THE  HEART  OF  BONITA  CASTRO 

A  PUFF  of  cool  air  streaming  in  through  an  open  port 
roused  the  sleeper,  and  he  became  conscious  of 
a  restful  lift  and  swing.  The  hammock  boys,  it 
seemed,  had  a  good  path  beneath  them  and  were  travel- 
ing well.  But  the  swing  was  longer  than  that  of  any 
hammock,  and  a  steady  vibration,  which  resembled  no 
sound  in  the  forest,  recalled  him  to  remembrance.  He 
recognized  that  it  was  made  .by  pounding  engines.  The 
air  that  fanned  him  was  also  fresh  and  invigorating,  and 
Dane  lay  still  again  with  a  sense  of  vast  relief.  The  time 
of  strain  was  over,  and  now  for  a  space  at  least  he  could 
rest.  Dressing  languidly,  he  went  up  on  deck. 

The  ocean  gleamed,  a  great  sheet  of  rippling  silver, 
under  the  moon.  Clear  stars  burned  above  the  mast- 
heads, which  swayed  to  and  fro  athwart  them,  while 
the  splash  of  tumbling  waters  and  the  sting  of  flung-up 
spray  seemed  charged  with  healing.  Lights  shone  in 
the  smoking-room  windows,  through  which  laughter 
and  a  murmur  of  voices  came  out,  but  just  then  merri- 
ment would  have  jarred  on  Dane,  and  he  leaned  over 
the  rails,  baring  his  head  to  the  breeze,  and  trying  to 
realize  what  had  happened  to  him.  He  felt  that  the 
shadow  which  had  hung  over  him  had  melted  while  he 
slept,  and  escaping  from  its  baleful  darkness,  which  had 
obscured  his  mental  vision,  he  had  awakened  sane. 
Then,  though  for  the  sake  of  one  who  slept  on  a  lonely 

311 


312  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

bluff  beyond  the  Leopards'  country,  Dane  did  not  regret 
what  had  been  done,  he  shuddered,  remembering  the 
one  grim  purpose  which  had  dominated  him. 

"We  did  not  expect  to  see  you  yet/'  said  the  skipper, 
halting  beside  him  with  the  doctor.  "Of  course,  we 
have  had  only  one  topic  of  conversation." 

"What  is  the  general  opinion?"  Dane  asked  in- 
differently. 

"My  glass  is  an  old  one,  but  the  mate  has  one  of 
the  latest  inventions,"  the  skipper  answered.  "He 
declares  it  was  the  white  man  who  upset  the  canoe, 
and  did  it  deliberately." 

"I  should  like  to  see  the  mate,"  exclaimed  Dane. 
"If  he  is  right  it  would  to  some  extent  be  a  relief  to 


me." 


"I  haven't  quite  relinquished  my  authority  yet," 
the  doctor  interposed.  "One  might  conclude  it  would 
be  wise  for  you  to  give  your  mind  a  rest  from  that  par- 
ticular subject.  A  good  many  things  happen  in  this 
country  which  it  is  well  to  forget;  and  there  are  signs 
that  your  load  has  been  as  heavy  as  you  are  fit  to 
carry." 

"It  is  good  advice,  if  somewhat  hard  to  profit  by," 
said  Dane;  and  the  two  men  turned  away.  The 
skipper's  words,  however,  had  removed  his  last  com- 
punction. He  had  determined  to  deliver  Rideau  to 
justice,  and  not  planned  to  drown  him,  but  if  his  enemy 
had  preferred  to  take  his  own  life  rather  than  stand  a 
trial,  the  responsibility  did  not  rest  upon  his  pursuer. 

Dane  strolled  forward  out  on  to  the  reeling  forecastle, 
and  found  the  swift  passage  of  the  ship  through  the 
moonlit  water  soothing.  Ahead  there  was  neither  reef 
nor  shoal.  She  forged  on,  hurling  aside  each  sea  which 


THE  HEART  OF  BONITA  CASTRO    SIS 

barred  her  way,  straight  toward  a  safe  haven  through 
open  water.  It  seemed  a  happy  augury,  and  pres- 
ently Dane  retired  tranquilly  to  sleep  again. 

Early  the  next  morning  the  mate  and  the  skipper 
went  ashore  with  him  at  a  cluster  of  white-washed 
buildings,  over  the  largest  of  which  the  tricolor 
floated,  and  were  courteously  received  by  a  little 
elderly  officer.  His  secretary  took  down  the  state- 
ments made  by  the  captain  and  mate,  and  when  these 
had  been  sworn  to,  he  quoted  from  a  book  before  him 
as  he  turned  to  Dane. 

"It  sounds  like  a  romance,  but  we  have  proof  that 
Monsieur  speaks  the  truth,"  he  said.  "He  will  return 
to  Petit  Mahu  with  an  official  who  will  examine  the 
traders  and  the  Indigene.  Until  his  report  is  considered, 
Monsieur  will  not  leave  this  colony.  In  touching  the 
gold,  the  signature  of  this  contract  is  undoubtedly 
that  of  Victor  Rideau,  and  under  the  terms  of  it  his 
share  is  forfeit.  Thus,  subject  to  certain  fees,  Mon- 
sieur retains  possession.  In  regard  to  the  position  of 
the  river  he  decides  to  say  nothing  ?  It  is  not  convenient 
that  more  white  men  lose  their  lives  in  that  country 
of  the  devil,  or  cause  the  bad  understanding  with  the 
Indigene.  We  have  not  yet  open  it  for  exploitation. 
Our  information  describes  it  as  barren,  and  without 
value,  which  Monsieur  will,  I  think,  not  contradict." 

Dane  had  little  trouble  with  the  authorities.  A 
commendable  absence  of  useless  formalities  charac- 
terized all  their  dealings  with  him,  and  in  a  very  brief 
space  he  was  free  to  leave  the  colony.  His  men  had 
been  paid  much  more  than  they  bargained  for,  and  it 
was  with  genuine  regret  that  he  took  leave  of  the 
last  of  them;  it  was  with  difficulty  that  he  dissuaded 


314  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

Monday  from  accompanying  him  to  England.  The 
few  Kroos  remaining  at  Mahu  when  he  left  paddled 
him  off  to  his  steamer;  and  looking  back  from  her  deck, 
he  could  see  Amadu's  tall  figure  on  the  beach.  Red- 
mond and  Gilby  came  on  board,  and,  dining  there, 
celebrated  the  parting  so  thoroughly  that  several  sea- 
men were  needed  to  assist  them  into  their  boat,  while 
how  any  of  the  party  ran  the  gauntlet  of  the  surf  was 
more  than  Dane  knew.  They  were  not  men  of  much 
refinement  and  had  their  weaknesses,  black  and  white 
alike;  but  he  owed  a  good  deal  to  the  sturdy 
heathen,  while  the  two  of  paler  color,  instead  of  turn- 
ing aside  from  a  distressed  compatriot,  had  shown  them- 
selves ready  to  assist  him  with  a  warm-hearted  reck- 
lessness not  always  to  be  found  among  those  possessing 
a  higher  degree  of  culture. 

Dane  had  one  task  still  before  him;  and  it  was  a  hot 
afternoon  when  he  called  for  the  last  time  at  Dom  Ped- 
ro's factory.  It  seemed  almost  strange  that  everything 
should  remain  as  he  had  last  seen  it — the  little  olive- 
faced  gentleman  lounging,  cigarette  in  hand,  against 
the  veranda  balustrade,  and  Bonita  and  her  sleepy 
aunt  lying  in  deep  chairs  in  the  shadow.  In  spite  of 
the  heat  and  sickness  in  that  land,  life  goes  smoothly 
at  an  African  factory  run  by  men  of  Latin  race. 

Dane  was  puzzled  by  something  in  Bonita's  manner 
as  she  rose  to  meet  him.  She  showed  little  pleasure, 
but  rather  suppressed  anxiety,  and  looked  past  him 
toward  the  beach  as  though  expecting  somebody. 
Even  Dom  Pedro  seemed  shaken  out  of  his  usual 
serenity,  the  senora's  eyes  were  open  wide,  and  there 
was  a  silence  after  the  opening  courtesies. 

"It  is  with  the  great  satisfaction  we  see  you  safe," 


THE  HEART  OF  BONITA  CASTRO    315 

said  Dom  Pedro,  though  satisfaction  was  not  what  his 
voice  most  clearly  expressed.  "  B  u t  you  bring  us  news  ? 
Two  of  you  go  up  yonder,  and  there  is  a  third  who 
follow.  One  only  he  comes  back." 

Dane  guessed  that  the  speaker's  anxiety  chiefly 
concerned  the  third  who  followed,  and  the  implied 
question  was  the  least  difficult  to  answer. 

"I  have  news,"  he  said.  "The  man  who  followed 
us  was  no  friend  of  yours,  senorita?" 

Bonita  Castro's  lips  curled  scornfully. 

"No.    I  have  little  cause  to  be  a  friend  of  him." 

"He  will  harass  you  no  longer.  He  is  dead,"  said 
Dane. 

There  was  no  pity,  but  rather  pride  and  a  still 
strained  anxiety  in  the  girl's  eyes. 

"It  is  as  I  told  you,  padre.  The  dog  has  failed  in 
his  treachery  and  the  Senor  Maxwell  has  kill  him." 

"No.     He  was  drowned  at  sea." 

"It  was  not  the  Sen  or  Maxwell  who  kill  him?  And 
the  man  with  the  cross  on  his  forehead?" 

"No,"  said  Dane.  "Rideau  was  drowned  while 
trying  to  avoid  me.  The  man  with  the  cross  on  his 
forehead  is  also  dead.  He  twice  attempted  my  com- 
rade's life,  and  I  shot  him  one  night  when  he  was 
crawling  toward  my  tent." 

Bonita  bent  her  head  in  a  curious  formal  salutation. 

"Our  felicitations,  Don  Ilton.  And  the  Senor  Max- 
well?" 

Her  voice  grew  a  little  deeper  with  the  last  question, 
and  there  was  a  note  in  it  which  puzzled  Dane,  while 
she  cast  a  swift  glance  toward  the  second  surf-boat 
lurching  in  shore  from  the  anchored  steamer.  The 
man  hesitated  before  he  answered. 


316  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

"He  also  is  dead,  sefiorita.  He  was  treacherously 
murdered  in  the  forest  beyond  the  Leopards' 
country." 

Amid  all  the  memories  Dane  carried  with  him  from 
Africa  there  were  only  two  which  equaled  in  vividness 
that  of  the  few  following  moments.  The  girl  stifled 
a  half-articulate  cry,  and  a  heavy  silence  succeeded. 
Dom  Pedro  grasped  the  rails  hard  with  genuine  con- 
sternation in  his  face;  and  there  was  horror  in  the 
senora's  expression.  Bonita  stood  stiffly  upright,  with 
lips  turned  suddenly  bloodless  and  a  look  that  aston- 
ished Dane  in  her  dilated  eyes.  Beyond  that  space 
of  shadow  there  was  dazzling  sunlight,  and  to  emphasize 
the  stillness  on  the  veranda  the  hot  air  vibrated  with 
the  roar  of  the  sea.  The  girl  appeared  to  choke  for 
breath.  Understanding  suddenly,  Dane  turned  his 
eyes  away.  It  was  the  senora  who  spoke  first. 

"All  dead.  Reina  de  los  anegles — ave!"  she  mur- 
mured. 

Dane,  looking  round  again,  saw  that  Bonita  was 
mistress  of  herself.  It  was  all  clear  now,  and  he  ad- 
mired as  well  as  pitied  her.  Passionate,  vindictive, 
wayward  as  she  was,  the  blow  had  stirred  within  her 
the  pride  of  her  race,  and  it  was  with  a  queenly  air  she 
turned  toward  him. 

"The  senor  will  pardon  us  if  we  give  him  pain, 
but  he  will  tell  us  all.  Of  Rideau's  treachery,  and— 
how  his  comrade  fell." 

Dane  fancied  that  he  was  the  only  one  in  the  party 
who  had  guessed  the  girPs  secret;  and  he  might  not 
have  done  so  but  that  sympathy  quickened  his  per- 
ceptions, for  he  also  had  loved  Carsluith  Maxwell. 
He  felt  that  it  might  be  well  for  Bonita  Castro  if  she 


THE  HEART  OF  BONITA  CASTRO    317 

heard  everything,  and  he  roused  himself  to  do  his 
fallen  comrade  justice.  Thus  the  dead  man  moved  an 
heroic  figure  through  all  the  kaleidoscopic  happenings. 
The  rest,  black  and  brown,  were  lay  figures,  himself  a 
puppet  obeying  the  leader's  will;  and,  when  the  narra- 
tive concluded,  Dane  felt  that  if  others  now  knew  his 
comrade  as  he  had  known  him  he  was  satisfied.  Re- 
membering what  he  had  seen  he  could,  he  fancied,  read 
by  the  light  of  it  what  was  passing  in  Bonita  Castro's 
mind.  At  times  she  listened  with  quivering  lips,  then 
a  moisture  gathered  in  her  eyes,  which  nevertheless 
glittered  with  a  curious  pride,  and  he  thought  her  superb 
when  at  last,  with  a  glance  only,  she  thanked  the  bringer 
of  the  news. 

"He  was  all  caballero,  as  you  say,  a  very  gallant 
gentleman.  I  will  pray  for  the  sound  rest  of  him," 
she  said. 

Dom  Pedro  moved  uneasily. 

"He  was  a  man  without  principle  this  Rideau. 
With  excuses  to  the  senor,  I  would  my  books  examine, 
and  try  to  figure  of  how  much  he  rob  me,"  he  said, 
and  hurried  away. 

Bonita  followed,  and  Dane  was  left  with  her  sleepy 
aunt  who  presently  astonished  him.  The  sefiora,  it 
appeared,  was  a  lady  of  much  keener  perceptions 
than  he  had  imagined;  and  he  understood  why  she  told 
him  what  had  happened  during  Rideau's  last  visit  to 
the  factory.  It  was  evident  that  Dane  owed  his  life 
in  a  measure  to  her  niece.  When  she  concluded,  the 
lady  lapsed  into  a  somnolent  silence,  which,  if  assumed, 
was  tactful,  leaving  the  man,  who  was  glad  of  a  respite 
from  conversational  effort,  to  digest  the  information. 

Dom  Pedro  had  cargo  for  the  steamer,  and  it  was 


318  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

late  when  Dane  said  good-by  to  Bonita  on  the  moon- 
lit veranda.  It  may  have  been  due  to  the  silvery  light, 
but  she  seemed  to  have  changed,  and  Dane  shrank  a 
little  from  meeting  her.  Bonita,  however,  spoke  very 
quietly. 

"I  have  a  confession  to  make,"  she  said.  "You 
have  done  much  for  my  father,  and  it  is  right  that  I 
tell  you." 

"Please  don't,  senorita,"  Dane  interposed;  but  the 
girl  checked  him. 

"You  lost  the  Seiior  Maxwell's  map  here,  and  I, 
who  found  it,  sold  it  Rideau.  It  was  the  infamy,  but 
the  price  was  tempting —  and  I  knew  one  of  you  would 
kill  him.  You  will  try  to  forget  the  injury?" 

"I  think  I  know  why  you  did  it,  and  I  do  not  blame 
you,"  said  Dane.  "I  shall  most  clearly  remember 
that,  when  I  was  sick,  you  saved  my  life  for  me,  as  I 
think  you  did  again  when  you  helped  my  comrade  to 
forestall  Rideau." 

Bonita  smiled  a  little. 

"You  are  generous,  but  I  would  have  it  so.  Then 
we  are,  as  you  say,  the  equal.  I  have  been  able  to  help 
you.  You  give  me  my  liberty.  You  sail  now  for  Eng- 
land, Don  Ilton?" 

"Yes,"  said  Dane;  and  again  Bonita  Castro  aston- 
ished him. 

"She  loves  you?"  she  asked  simply. 

The  question  was  startling,  and  the  man  answered 
stupidly. 

"I  hope  so.     I — I  do  not  know." 

For  a  moment  the  swift  laughter  rose  to  the  girl's 
eyes,  but  died  in  its  birth,  and  the  movement  of  her 
hands  that  followed  it  stirred  the  man's  pity. 


THE  HEART  OF  BONITA  CASTRO    319 

"You  do  not  know?  I  saw  the  picture,  and  it  was 
for  her  you  went  up  into  the  Leopards'  country.  You 
are  a  strange  people,  Don  Uton — and  the  Senor 
Maxwell,  he  was  like  you?" 

Dane  afterward  remained  uncertain  why  he  spoke 
as  he  did,  but  the  words  framed  themselves,  as  it  were, 
without  his  volition. 

"No,"  he  said;  "nobody  could  compare  me  with 
Maxwell.  Nor  do  I  think  I  have  met  many  such  as  he; 
but  when  he  was  dying,  he  spoke  much  of  you.  He 
told  me  you  had  promised  to  help  us,  and  that  he  could 
trust  you.  It  was  almost  his  last  charge  that  I  should 
tell  you  so." 

Dane  knew  by  her  swift  grateful  glance  that  Bonita 
Castro  blessed  him  for  the  speech.  In  impulsive 
southern  fashion,  she  held  out  both  hands  to  him. 

"  Vaya  con  Dios,  and  the  good  saints  send  you  happi- 
ness! I  think  we  neither  of  us  forget  what  has  hap- 
pened here,  Don  Uton." 

The  last  words  ended  in  something  like  a  sob,  and 
Dane,  who  could  think  of  no  fitting  words  to  say,  only 
crushed  the  little  hot  hands  in  his  own  and  swung  his 
hat  low  as  he  turned  away.  Dom  Pedro  walked  to  the 
surf-boat  with  him,  but  Dane  scarcely  heard  what 
he  said,  for  his  thoughts  were  centered  on  the  girl,  who 
stood,  a  pathetic  figure,  gazing  after  him  from  the 
moonlit  veranda. 

The  Krooboys  were  slow  to  reach  the  steamer,  but 
Dane  was  the  better  pleased,  for  he  hardly  felt  equal  to 
facing  the  questions  or  the  badinage  of  her  passengers 
just  then. 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

REWARDED 

IT  was  a  sunny  afternoon  when  the  little  West  Coast 
mailboat's  engines  ceased  their  throbbing  off  the 
mole  of  Santa  Cruz,  Teneriffe.  Clear  skies  had  hung 
over  her  as  she  rolled  northward  in  no  great  hurry, 
and  the  fresh  breezes  which  curl  the  sparkling  sea 
between  Morocco  and  the  fever  coast  had  brought 
new  life  to  her  sickly  passengers.  Dane  felt  his  heart 
grow  lighter  as  each  league  of  deep  blue  water  rolled 
astern,  and  the  shadow  of  the  dark  land  had  almost 
fallen  from  him  when  the  Canaries  rose  out  of  the  sea. 
He  had  youth  on  his  side,  besides  a  comparatively  clean 
conscience  and  a  sound  constitution;  and  a  little  chest 
consigned  by  him  to  a  British  bank  was  locked  in  the 
steamer's  specie  room.  Though  he  would  gladly  have 
flung  its  contents  into  the  sea  to  undo  the  past,  regrets 
were  futile.  So,  with  a  courage  which  sprang  rather 
from  humility  than  pride,  he  had  determined  to  ask 
Lilian  Chatterton  to  either  share  his  struggles  or  await 
his  prosperity. 

The  long  black  mole  slid  past,  the  bows  forged  more 
slowly  through  the  crystal  brine,  and  the  harbor  opened 
up.  Even  before  the  yellow  flag  fluttered  aloft,  boats 
by  the  dozen  shot  out  from  the  lava  steps,  and  Dane 
eagerly  scanned  the  faces  of  their  occupants.  They 
were  fruit  peddlers,  shipping  and  coaling  clerks,  and 
he  sighed  with  disappointment  as  he  next  swept  his 

320 


REWARDED  321 

eyes  along  the  mole.  Nobody  among  the  loungers 
there  raised  a  hat  or  a  handkerchief. 

"Expecting  friends?"  asked  the  purser,  halting  beside 
him. 

"I  was,"  Dane  answered  dejectedly.  " Although 
I  cabled  from  the  Coast,  I  don't  see  them." 

"I  wouldn't  count  too  much  on  that,"  smiled  the 
purser.  "  Nobody  is  very  particular  in  Spanish  pos- 
sessions, and  it's  quite  possible  they  lost  your  message 
or  couldn't  decipher  the  English  name.  We  shall 
fill  up  here  with  tourists,  and  if  you  are  going  home 
with  us  you  must  let  me  know." 

"I  can't  tell  you  now,"  Dane  said.  "It  depends  on 
what  I  hear  ashore." 

"Well,  I  won't  keep  a  berth  for  you." 

He  left  Dane  troubled  when  he  turned  away,  for  he 
had  certainly  expected  Chatterton  to  welcome  him  and 
he  had  counted  the  days  until  he  could  ask  Lilian  an 
eventful  question.  He  had  hoped  also  that  the  cable 
message  would  have  prepared  them  for  his  tidings; 
he  shrank  from  again  appearing  unexpectedly  as  the 
bearer  of  tragic  news.  There  was  no  time  to  be  lost, 
however,  and  he  went  ashore  in  the  first  boat.  Strange 
faces  looked  down  at  him  from  the  mole,  and  no  friendly 
voice  was  raised  in  greeting;  and  further  annoyance 
awaited  him  when  he  hurried  into  the  hotel. 

Mr.  Chatterton  and  family  had  stayed  there  for  a 
time,  but  had  left,  the  major-domo  said.  He  thought 
they  had  gone  to  Madeira,  but  they  might  have  sailed 
for  England,  or  anywhere.  It  was  not  his  business  to 
ask  where  any  Englishman  wandered  to,  but  the  clerk 
might  know.  The  clerk,  it  appeared,  was  out,  and 
might  not  be  back  for  an  hour  or  so,  but  the  major- 


322  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

domo  suggested  that  in  the  meantime  something  might 
be  gathered  by  an  examination  of  the  visitors'  letters 
in  his  office.  He  showed  Dane  where  the  office  was, 
and  then  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"  What  pity !    Ramon  he  have  lock  the  door,"  he  said. 

" That's  a  very  small  obstacle,"  answered  Dane. 
"Nobody  else  has  a  key,  I  suppose,  so  I'm  going  to  get 
in  through  the  window,  and  I  will  most  certainly  break 
it  if  he  has  fastened  that  up,  too." 

There  were  murmurs  of  protest,  and  Dane  fancied 
that  half  the  staff  gathered  in  the  hall  and  watched  him 
endeavor  to  wrench  the  sash  out  by  main  force.  When 
he  had  almost  accomplished  it,  somebody  suggested 
that  when  Ramon  locked  the  front  door  he  usually  left 
one  at  the  side  open.  It  was  a  characteristic  example  of 
how  things  are  managed  in  Latin  countries;  and  the 
next  minute  Dane  was  busy  turning  over  a  bundle  of 
letters  in  the  office.  There  were  several  for  Thomas  and 
Mrs.  Chatterton,  and  the  sight  of  them  rilled  him  with 
satisfaction.  Then  his  eye  was  caught  by  his  own  name 
on  the  top  of  two  envelopes  reforwarded  to  Chatterton, 
and  after  a  swift  glance  at  the  embossed  name  on  the 
back,  he  tore  the  first  open. 

It  was  from  a  celebrated  engineering  firm,  and  his 
blood  pulsed  faster  as  he  read  it: 

"Although  when  you  last  called  upon  us  we  could  not 
quite  see  our  way  to  do  so  on  the  terms  you  mentioned, 
we  are  now  prepared  to  undertake  the  manufacture  and 
sale  of  your  invention  on  the  following  conditions." 

Dane  saw  that  the  conditions  were  as  favorable  as  any 
non-capitalist  inventor  could  expect,  but  he  felt  that 
the  gold  he  had  sent  home  would  help  him  to  improve 
them;  and  it  was  with  a  thrill  of  satisfaction  that  he 


REWARDED  323 

opened  the  second  letter.  This  was  from  his  last  em- 
ployers, offering  him  reasonable  remuneration  if  he  would 
undertake  the  supervision  of  the  machines  and  bridge 
work  they  were  sending  out  to  execute  an  important 
railroad-building  contract  abroad. 

Here  was  one  difficulty  removed,  at  least.  Dane 
hastened  to  the  cable  offices,  and  felt  a  great  content- 
ment when  his  messages  were  on  the  wires.  His  pros- 
pects were  improving,  and  it  was  encouraging  to  know  he 
would  not  pose  as  a  wholly  indigent  suitor.  When  he 
reached  the  hotel  once  more,  the  clerk  had  returned, 
and  informed  him  that  Mr.  Chatterton  and  family  had 
retired  for  the  sake  of  coolness  to  Laguna,  five  or  six 
miles  away. 

Dane  procured  a  horse,  and  within  the  next  few 
minutes  he  was  urging  it  at  its  best  pace  up  the  steep 
hillside.  The  horse,  as  it  happened,  was  a  good  one, 
and  its  rider's  spirits  rose  higher  as  each  mile  went  by. 
It  was  a  fine  evening,  and  to  one  fresh  from  the  enervat- 
ing heat  of  Africa,  there  was  a  wonderful  buoyancy  in 
the  cool  air  that  came  down  from  the  Cordillera.  It  was 
a  refreshing  change  to  see  the  merry  brown  faces  of  the 
peasants  who  saluted  him  as  he  passed,  and  hear  the 
laughter  of  the  mule  drivers  as  their  climbing  teams 
dropped  behind.  Dane  had  almost  forgotten  the  dark 
land  when  the  white  walls  of  drowsy  Laguna  rose  to  view. 
The  loungers  in  the  plaza  knew  the  Englishman  Dane 
inquired  for,  and  one  of  them  preceded  him  down  a 
narrow  street  with  a  dignified  leisureliness  which  even 
the  sight  of  a  dollar  failed  to  dissipate,  and  finally  halted 
outside  a  high-walled  garden  doubtless  laid  out  by  some 
Castilian  conquistador  four  centuries  ago. 

Dane  swung  himself  from  the  saddle  before  a  door 


324  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

ornamented  by  a  beautiful  bronze  bell  handle,  and  spent 
two  minutes  pulling  the  bell  vigorously.  There  was  no 
answer  nor  any  sound  within,  and  remembering  that  it 
did  not  necessarily  follow  that  the  handle  had  a  wire 
attached,  he  stepped  back  into  the  roadway  and  flung 
himself  against  the  barrier.  A  hasp  of  some  kind  yielded, 
and  he  staggered  forward  into  the  garden.  The  sun  was 
dipping  behind  the  cordillera,  but  its  red  light  beat  into 
his  eyes,  and  at  first  he  could  see  only  a  row  of  crimson 
oleanders  stretching  away  before  him.  Their  fragrance 
and  the  scent  of  heliotrope  was  heavy  within  his  nostrils. 
Passing  through  the  shadow  of  an  orange-tree  he  made 
out  a  white  wall  garlanded  by  blue  bougainvillea,  and 
halted  at  the  sound  of  a  startled  voice  as  his  eyes  fell 
upon  the  group  on  the  terrace  beneath  it. 

Thomas  Chatterton  had  flung  his  chair  back,  and 
stood  up  with  a  flushed  face,  speaking  excitedly.  His 
niece  also  had  risen,  and  her  gaze  was  fixed  upon  the 
man  who  came  hurriedly  out  of  the  shadow  of  the  tree. 
She  was  silent,  but  Dane  read  in  her  eyes  that  which 
set  his  heart  beating,  and  for  a  second  or  two  he  saw 
only  the  dainty  figure  and  the  smiling  face  turned  to- 
ward his  own. 

The  elation  suddenly  died  out  within  him,  and  it  was 
by  an  effort  that  he  moved  forward,  for  there  was  a 
third  in  the  party.  A  man  with  iron-gray  hair  stood  a 
little  apart  from  the  rest,  and  while  each  of  his  compan- 
ions showed  that  they  rejoiced  to  see  the  new  arrival, 
he  was  gazing  fixedly  at  the  open  door  behind  him. 
Dane  saw  that  it  was  Brandram  Maxwell  of  Culmeny, 
and  knew  why  he  watched  the  door. 

"This  is  even  more  than  we  hoped  for,  Hilton,  though 
we  have  all  been  anxiously  waiting  for  news  of  you," 


REWARDED  325 

said  Chatterton.  "Thank  Heaven  you  are  safe  anyway. 
Worth  a  good  many  dead  men,  isn't  he,  Lilian?  She 
knew  Maxwell  would  bring  you  out;  and  when  I  grew 
anxious  her  confidence  reassured  me.  But  why  didn't 
you  cable — and  where  is  Maxwell?" 

Dane  disregarded  the  last  question,  for  Lilian  laid 
her  hand  in  his.  He  was  not  certain  what  she  said, 
but  her  eyes  were  shining  under  the  half-closed  lashes 
in  a  fashion  that  was  eloquent  enough.  Still  Dane 
could  not  linger  to  wonder  what,  if  they  were  fully  opened, 
he  might  see  within  them,  for  Chatterton  repeated  his 
question. 

"Where  have  you  left  Carsluith.  Did  he  not  come 
up  with  you  from  Santa  Cruz?" 

"No,"  Dane  answered,  and  his  voice  shook  a  little. 
"Did  you  receive  my  cable?" 

"We  did  not,"  said  Chatterton.  "What  has  gone 
wrong,  Hilton.  Speak  out,  man !" 

Lilian,  guided  by  some  womanly  instinct,  laid  her 
hand  warningly  on  the  speaker's  arm,  and  Dane  nerved 
himself  for  the  hardest  task  of  all,  as  the  owner  of  Cul- 
meny,  moving  forward,  stood  close  beside  him.  He 
was  very  much  like  what  Dane's  dead  comrade  had  been 
— wiry,  spare,  and  grim.  The  drooping  gray  moustache 
matched  the  pallor  of  his  face;  but  his  eyes  were  steady 
and  keen,  and  only  a  deepening  of  the  lines  about  them 
betrayed  his  anxiety. 

"I  fear  you  bring  bad  news,"  he  said. 

"I  do,"  Dane  answered  as  steadily  as  he  could,  though 
the  older  man's  composure  rendered  his  task  even  harder 
than  a  sign  of  weakness  would  have  done.  "I  had 
hoped  the  cable  I  sent  might  have  prepared  you — and 
now  I  hardly  know  how  to  tell  you." 


326  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

It  was  just  possible  to  see  that  a  tremor  ran  through 
Maxwell  and  his  lean  hand  closed  a  little  more  firmly 
than  was  needful  on  the  back  of  a  chair. 

" Brevity  is  best.     Disaster  has  overtaken  him?" 

"Yes." 

The  owner  of  Culmeny  looked  him  full  in  the  eyes, 
and  it  was  some  time  before  Dane  could  shake  off  the 
memory  of  that  gaze. 

"It  is  the  worst — he  is  dead?"  he  said;  and  Dane 
mutely  bent  his  head. 

Brandram  Maxwell's  fingers  trembled,  and  for  a 
moment  he  looked  at  the  ground;  then  he  spoke  very 
quietly: 

"I  feared  this  when  I  saw  he  was  not  with  you.  Tell 
me  how  it  happened.  It  is  not  the  first  shrewd  blow 
fate  has  dealt  me." 

Chatterton  and  Lilian  would  have  turned  away,  but 
Maxwell  beckoned  them  to  remain. 

"No.  We  have  grown  to  be  good  friends,  and  I 
should  like  you  to  hear  it,  too,"  he  said,  looking  toward 
Lilian.  "There  will  be  no  cause  for  any  one  who  knew 
my  son  to  blush  at  this  story.  It  will  be  a  kindness  if 
you  hide  nothing,  Hilton." 

Dane  afterward  wondered  how  he  got  through  that 
recital.  At  the  beginning  speech  seemed  to  fail  him, 
but  one  listener's  spirit  infected  him  as  he  proceeded, 
and  pride  was  mingled  with  the  man's  grief,  for  what 
he  had  seen  in  Bonita  Castro's  face  he  read  in  that  of 
the  owner  of  Culmeny.  It  was  dark  when  he  concluded: 

"I  can  tell  you  nothing  more,  sir,  and,  though 
God  knows  it  is  the  truth,  it  is  useless  to  say  that  I  would 
willingly  have  staked  my  own  life  on  the  chance  of  saving 
him."  ' 


REWARDED  327 

Lilian  appeared  to  be  crying  softly,  and  Chatterton 
troubled  with  something  in  his  throat,  for  he  coughed 
several  times  vigorously,  but  Maxwell  held  out  his  hand 
to  Dane. 

"I  believe  you  would.  You  were  his  friend,"  he  said, 
still  with  a  startling  quietness.  "You  did  your  best  for 
my  dead  son,  and  no  man  dare  blame  you.  It  is  a  brave 
story,  and  I  am  not  ashamed  of  his  end.  It  was  in  ac- 
cordance with  the  traditions  of  an  unfortunate  family. 
But  you  will  excuse  me.  I  am  getting  an  old  man  and 
weaker  in  the  fiber  than  I  used  to  be." 

He  turned  away,  holding  himself  stiffly  erect,  and 
Chatterton  laid  a  heavy  grasp  on  Dane's  shoulder. 

"Well  done,  Hilton.  If  you  had  not  chased  that 
damned  rascal  to  his  death  I'd  have  sent  you  back  with 
another  expedition  to  take  up  the  hunt  again.  I  am 
sorry  for  Culmeny.  He  was  fonder  of  Carsluith  than 
anything  else  under  heaven,  and  you  saw  how  he  took 
the  blow.  Well,  I  won  my  own  place,  and  went  through 
the  fire  for  it,  but  the  brand  Culmeny  wears  is  what  I 
could  never  attain  to.  They  were  alike,  both  of  them, 
and  it  will  be  a  long  time  before  we  find  their  equal. 
Perhaps  I  had  better  follow  and  try  to  comfort  him." 

It  struck  Dane  that  Thomas  Chatterton,  though  not 
lacking  in  sympathy,  would  hardly  make  a  tactful 
comforter,  but  he  did  not  say  so,  and  Lilian  seemed 
content  to  let  him  go. 

"You  are  not  sorry  to  see  me,  Lilian?"  asked  Dane, 
taking  one  of  the  girl's  hands  into  his  own,  for  her  cheeks 
were  damp  yet,  and  bending,  he  caught  her  answer. 

"No,  but  I  was  shocked.  Hilton,  I  felt  that  when 
he  went  out  to  save  you  he  knew  he  was  going  to  his 
death,  and  I — I  let  him  go." 


328  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  LEOPARD 

"Even  you  could  not  have  turned  him  aside,"  said 
Dane. 

"I — right  or  wrong — I  did  not  try." 

"He  was  a  better  man  than  I  am,"  declared  Dane. 
"But  it  is  fortunate  that  there  are  women  who  can  be 
content  with  less  than  the  best,  and  make  up  the  de- 
ficiencies themselves.  Will  you  listen  to  a  little  tale, 
one  which  is  rather  amusing  than  somber?" 

"Is  it  about  the  poacher?  If  so,  you  need  not  tell 
me.  You  must  also  take  the  confession  I  ought  to  make 
for  granted.  You  were  always  a  blunderer,  Hilton." 

"I  dare  say  I  was,"  Dane  answered,  laying  his  hand 
on  the  girl's  shoulder  in  a  masterful  fashion.  "And 
my  last  adventure  was  perhaps  the  maddest  freak  of 
all;  but  that  is  beside  the  question.  I  once  made  a 
very  vague  arrangement  with  you,  though  you  kin.'.^,  , 
said  we  understood  each  other.  Now,  I  must  ask  you, 
do  you  wish  that  understanding  to  continue.  If  so, 
the  only  way  for  me  to  keep  it  would  be  to  go  back  to 
Africa.  A  steamer  sails  to-morrow." 

"No,"  the  girl  said  shyly,  then  lifted  her  head  and 
glanced  at  her  companion.  "I  dare  not  send  you  back 
to  that  hateful  country,  Hilton." 

There  was  no  need  for  further  speech.  Dane  knew 
that  he  had  won  at  last. 


THE  END 


YB  5' 


2 


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